


War of the Dragons

by iDiru



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Attempted Abortion, Dragon AU, Dragon!Cas, Dragons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Estrus, Gen, Gore, Hermaphrodite! Cas, Hermaphroditism, Illustrated, Just a whole species of heramphrodites really, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Malnutrition, Minor Original Character(s), Miscarriage mentions, Mpreg, NSFW Art, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-sexual Non-Con, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Political, Prince!Cas, Princes, Romeo and Juliet shit, Tags For Future Content Warning, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex, Violence, dragon dicks, dragon!dean, infections, prince!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iDiru/pseuds/iDiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is the prince of the city in the sky, Dean is the prince of the city in the ground. Both of their species hate each other and are constantly at war, but cruel fate pushes them together and changes their lives forever. They must deal with the unintended consequences while fighting for their right to live, and avoid an unknown threat that looms in the distance with the dwindling disappearance of several other dragon species.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Great City

**Author's Note:**

> Story related art at the bottom (as usual)

There was a cold chill blowing through the land, signaling the end of summer and the coming frigidness of fall. It blew from the mountaintops, sprinkling stardust from The Great City along the forests and villages below. It even chilled the beasts living in the city below the Earth in the Under City. Two great cities that were so far apart in ideals and land but still affected by the coming months of famine. A time that inevitably pushed two warring species of equally powerful dragons together; the Vovina and the Coraxo.

It was uncertain where their feud started but rumor was that eons ago they were once kin, but something forced them apart and the feud began. After thousands of years of fighting the original reason had been forgotten but the mere sight of each other sent them into an aggressive frenzy, and unfortunately the Vovina were forced into the Coraxo’s territory during the fall which caused extensive bloodshed and sometimes death.

The year was no different in that aspect, but the introduction of the prince and future king into the equation was. Castiel, brother of two and son to a single female, was often sent to negotiate the space of fall hunting grounds with the villages below. The Vovina, though sitting high in the heavens on their mystical floating city, so drenched in magic and energy that it changed the very structure of space and time, relied on the meat from the animals in the forests and on the ground.  Since they were a generally peaceful race they watched over the humans and kept them safe in exchange for hunting nearby.

During the fall and winter, due to the decrease in crops, the villagers humbly requested that they hunt further away so that food would not be scarce for them as well. The downside to this was that the fall hunting grounds were generally on the border of Coraxo territory. Castiel had yet to encounter one as he was simply a negotiator, but stranger things had happened.

 

      There was an air of unease that came with the frigid temperatures this day though, and Castiel was beginning to think that perhaps leaving the safety of his home was a poor idea. There was something dark and heavy weighing down the pit of his stomach that made him disagree with his mother for the first time in a long time. 

 

“I feel as though you should send James in my place.” Castiel said tentatively as he entered Devena’s chambers to bring up a conversation he had attempted many times.. 

 

“We have been over this Castiel… though your brother may look like you his position in this family is not as strong or important as yours. You are to become the next ruler of this Kingdom and not taking responsibility for the sake of our people will not look very becoming of you to your future subjects, and the villagers who rely on our protection. You've attended these duties numerous times with no issue. What do you think has so drastically changed that you feel the need to shirk your duties as prince?”

 

“Something feels wrong about this time… I fear for my safety.”

 

“So you suggest I send your brother? And how do you think it will look to the people when their king abandons his duties due to misplaced anxiety? Furthermore, how does it look for a queen to not enforce tradition?”

 

Castiel sighed and fought to hold his tongue, his jaw tensed in a bubbling anger that joined that dark pit of anxiety in his stomach. Devena was seen as a kind and fair ruler, but she was far too concerned about how she appeared to her people. She would put her family’s needs second to make sure that she was serving the good of the kingdom. It was admirable in a way but being that Castiel was her son he was getting the raw end of the deal. Truthfully, his anxiety was probably nothing and nothing would go wrong but he just couldn’t shake the feeling. 

  
  


“Clearly I cannot sway you, but let it be known that I am to fall to harm on this mission it will be your fault.” 

  
  


\---- 

  
  


As he had done many times in the past, Castiel descended from The Great City to the forests below, only to find his assumption of something being wrong correct. The forests in front of the village had been ravaged by fire, which meant their protections had failed. Their people usually kept wards up to protect against attacks from other dragons, while the guards usually protected against roving bandits. There were very few dragons that could break through a Vovina’s ward and the closest one was the Coraxo. What could it mean that they would destroy this forest? There was no food for anyone now. The trees were blackened and barren, all life having escaped or been burnt to a crisp. 

  
  


For a moment, Castiel considered returning to his mother and telling her of the state of things but it was likely she would have sent him back down to question them anyway. He would not return until he got to the bottom of this. There was a strong dread weighing heavy on him as his claws dug into the blackened ground beneath his feet. This was something that should not have happened. 

  
  
  


Upon reaching the village he found that the guards stationed in front began to act suspicious of him. Holding up a hand he motioned for them to stand down, as he came in peace and that was something they should know by now. His trip through the village lead him to the chief who looked nervous and distraught. 

 

“What happened here?” 

 

“There was a dragon attack outside the village. Your wards failed. We’ve had years of peace under your protection..What could have caused it to fail?” 

 

“Can you tell me exactly what happened during this attack? What was it that attacked you?” 

 

“It was a large, sickly looking beast. Torn wings, covered in spikes...Eyes blacker than a moonless night. A few of our hunters went out and found the beast skulking around. When it saw them it attacked with fire, and it spread too quickly in this dry air. There is no more vegetation...no more animals. Our hunting grounds are gone. Yours too...Competition means that unfortunately, you’ll have to be pushed further away than usual.” 

 

“I understand. I will inform our people at once,” Castiel said, bidding them farewell and starting back towards the general direction of The Great City. 

  
  


He realized then that he couldn’t simply return home. If he came home without scoping out the danger of their new hunting grounds he would be reprimanded. He would just have to be quick. In a bright flash of light that enveloped his entire being, Castiel shifted into his second form and headed along a river that lead to their usual hunting grounds, sprinting along and leaving a glistening black and blue blur in the reflection beneath him. He could fly but if he were to be attacked there was a much higher chance of fatal injury. 

  
  
  
  


After traveling for several minutes at a speed a human could never dream of, Castiel reached their usual winter hunting grounds, except he would have to press on from here. He was already in Coraxo territory and he had no choice but to go even deeper. Beyond the forest where they were usually forced to hunt was almost barren and encased in rock. Deep valleys, jagged cliffs and jutting mountains dotted the landscape. There was a dark cloud hanging over him, perhaps signaling a rain that would most likely chill him to the bone. Luckily for dragons their blood was like fire in their veins and usually prevented freezing to death. 

  
  
  


Castiel could see in the distance a great mountain carved out with precision, with crumbling pillars inscribed with a language he couldn’t read. He could just make out a stone doorway in the face of the rock decorated by a large carved skull just above it. He fought to keep his composure, but he was scared. He was no longer just in Coraxo territory, he was practically on their doorstep. Castiel felt uncertain now if this dark cloud was rain. Like his own species, the Coraxo too had a way of warping the landscape that left blackness hanging over the skies of their den...or so he’d heard. It was time for him to leave and report back to his mother so that they could formulate a plan on how to proceed with this unfortunate news. 

  
  


As he turned to head back he was suddenly stricken with an intense pain in his neck, so quickly it took him a moment to formulate what was happening. With a sharp tug he found himself on the ground with teeth in his neck and claws in his face. In quick retaliation he pulled back, righting himself again only to be thrown to the ground once more. Jagged back claws dug into his hindquarters as the beast changed position, and Castiel could only struggle and snap at a wing that happened to be above him. 

 

The pain caused what he knew was a Coraxo to back off only momentarily, giving Castiel just enough time to stand again. His victory was short lived as the dragon came to his side and bit into his neck again, claws digging into his head and shredding mercilessly. With a deep growl, Castiel swung his head sideways just enough to take a shallow bite from what looked like brown, striped scales. Again only a momentary victory as the dragon kept hold of his neck and yanked him away, sending strings and flecks of blood splattering to the  ground. 

  
  
  


Castiel’s vision was beginning to go white from pain and he gave a low wail of despair that rumbled through his body like thunder. He was not sure how much more he could take of this. Out of desperation he yanked himself away quickly which effectively tore a massive chunk from his neck. Bleeding and weak, he tried to fly but only found himself plummeting to the ground. His vision blurred as he broke into a stumbling sprint towards what looked like an opening in the mountains. Even with pain and blood loss he could at least tell he was going in the opposite direction of their dens. At the time Castiel didn’t realize that he would be backing himself into a corner, he just wanted to escape. 

  
  


Feet from the entrance he stumbled and crashed to the ground sending clouds of dust and debris into the air. The dragon was not far behind and it was not long before its teeth were digging into where his neck met his shoulders. To Castiel’s surprise he began to drag him. It was not something he expected but logically it seemed the beast was trying to drag him to the cave so he could finish his kill in peace. Castiel could not die here...He could not die at the hands of such a foul creature. A surge of adrenalin shot through his body and gave him just enough energy to retaliate by standing and sinking his teeth into the beast's shoulder. He pulled back and ripped a large piece of flesh away before going back in for another attack. 

 

He was halted when the dragon brought his claws down onto his shoulders, shoving him back to the ground like nothing had happened at all. Castiel struggled to right himself but found he was too exhausted to move. The dragon moved behind him to sink his teeth into Castiel’s leg and began to drag him again. He was too tired...he couldn’t continue. This was the end for him. He watched as the sky faded from his vision and he was pulled inside. At this moment he felt an extreme surge of pain through his entire body and his vision whited out until he found himself lying on the cave floor, no longer in his beastial form. 

  
  


This was truly the end for him. There was no way he could fight a dragon in this form, and even if he could he didn’t have the strength. To his surprise, nothing happened until he felt slick blood hitting his body with the sound of a squelching burst. He struggled to right himself, squinting in the darkness, and found the beast gone. In its place was a human form with dark, scaled wings stretched with a thin membrane of skin. Green and black scales outlined his eyes, not completely unlike his own, beneath black and deadly looking horns atop a head of pushed back brown hair. His eyes traveled along his body, briefly taking in the black and green scales that lined his body and traveled to his scaled legs that kept him upright on reptilian feet, pointed with deadly looking talons. 

  
  


His lower half was covered by strips of leather that matched the bracers on his arms and a scaled shoulder piece jutting with teeth. Castiel spied a tattoo on one side of his chest which was perhaps in reference to something Coraxo related, but he couldn’t tell. His face bore confusion and he could see in his black eyes, lined with gem-like green irises and slit pupils, that he was just as scared and confused as he was. When he spoke it was with a deep but almost melodious voice, lined with anger and fear. 

  
  


“What the  _ fuck _ did you do?” 

  
  


It was the last thing he heard before blackness took over his vision and his thoughts turned to nothingness. 

 

 

_**Art:** _

 

_**Castiel:** _

 

_**Human form:** _

_** ** _

_** ** _

_**(The following pic was actually done before I started this story, so his hair is different, but his face is still the same up close)** _

_** ** _

 

_**Dragon Form:** _

 

_** ** _

_** ** _

 

_** ** _

 

 

_**Dean (you all knew it was Dean come on):** _

 

_**Human:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_** ** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**Dragon:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**Dragon Battle:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**Environment:** _

 

_**The Great City:** _

 

_**Cas' house:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**Entry Way:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**Bedroom:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**Bathroom:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**The Undercity Entrance:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**The Lookout On Top Of The Undercity Mountain:** _

 

_** ** _

 

_**More to be revealed about the Under City after more is revealed about Coraxo culture.** _


	2. The Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to stay for the art.

There was a voice ringing in his ears, coming through muffled and echoing through the haze of his mind. It wasn’t a voice he recognized and as he was coming to he almost forgot where he was, but in a split second he realized. He opened his eyes to find a hand on his face evidently trying to wake him. With fear and instinct he struck, surging upwards and biting the dragon’s shoulder violently. Castiel wasn’t even sure why he did it but he felt the need to. With a loud yell the dragon pushed him hard onto the ground and placed his claw tipped, black fingers on his chest to hold him there.

 

“Stop it!” he shouted, climbing ontop of him to sit on his stomach. It hurt and made it hard to breathe but he was far too tired and weak to push him off. Instead he merely glared at him almost snarling with rage that this thing was sitting on top of him. 

 

“You need to calm the fuck down. You’d be dead if I didn’t think I needed you. We’re trapped in here. Do you think you can get us out?” 

 

“What’s in it for me?” 

 

“50/50 chance that I won’t kill you. Also, getting out of here for one. If I let you up, are you going to fight back?” 

 

Castiel watched him carefully as though he were trying to pry into his mind and see if he was really telling the truth. He would probably be dead if he wasn’t, that much was true. 

 

“I won’t fight back...not right now, anyway.” 

  
  


The dragon pulled himself off and yanked him roughly to his feet. There was nothing gentle or helpful in the way he did it and Castiel thought that it was just a way to hurt him without mortally wounding him. The pain that shot through his arm sent adrenaline and rage through his system that caused him to turn and lash his claws out at the other’s face. They connected and left a shallow gash in the man’s cheek. In response he found himself pushed hard against the wall. He felt hands close around his throat just tight enough to choke him but not enough to kill him. There were claws digging into his skin and he could feel blood start to trickle down his chest. 

  
  


There was a rage in him that he found hard to abate. The primal urge and need to kill this man here and there. Any prodding at his nerves and he was striking at him without a second thought. The both of them were going to end up killing each other before they even thought about getting out of this cave. 

  
  


The man shoved him again with his free hand, just enough so that his head bounced against the stone. 

  
  


“What happened to that little promise we had that you weren’t going to fight?” 

“It wasn’t a promise,” Castiel said, the words hard to get out as the air struggled to get through. 

 

“There’s nothing more I’d like about now than to slit your throat and devour your corpse, but we have to work together right now, alright?” 

 

“It’s hard,” Castiel choked out. “It’s hard not to hurt you. I know you feel it too. You can’t control it and neither can I.” 

 

“Well you’d better learn to control it better, because I can snap your neck in a heartbeat. You’re way too weak to overpower me right now.” 

  
  


The man suddenly let go of his throat and he gasped, coughing and choking as he stumbled forward. He fought the urge to strangle him in return and instead tried to look around the cave. It was dark as though they were completely encased in stone. 

 

“Where is the entrance…?” 

 

“It’s gone. I mean, I think it’s still there. I can feel air coming through but I can’t get through.” 

  
  


Castiel frowned and tried to peer around the darkness for any sort of clue but his eyes weren’t able to adjust. He produced a ball of light (an ability in their species) that floated into the air before exploding to light the entire room in a bright, blueish glow. Just producing that ball made him want to collapse. It was absolutely draining and the type of magic he had done was not nearly enough to drain even a small fraction. Was he truly that injured? 

  
  


He surveyed the area and found it was not very large, almost like a prison cell. There was no food, no water, but there was a faint smell of death in the air like many things had died here. He stepped forward to where the entrance should be and from where he felt the air blowing. There was stone there but placing his hand upon it told him it wasn’t real. It felt cool but almost like a liquid. It was slick though it left no residue on his hands. He could tell that this was some kind of barrier…Disheartened, he backed away and into the wall which he proceeded to slide down moments after. 

 

“This is here to trap dragons...I don’t know why or who’s done this but it doesn’t seem like the first time.” 

 

“Can’t we just break out?” 

 

“No...it’s not just a barrier that’s at work here. This ...prison cell is enchanted so that we can’t use anything more than brute force, and I’d be willing to bet that the same magic has made the rest of the cave impenetrable.”

  
  


This caused a groan from the man who paced back and forth briefly before turning his eyes to the short ceiling. Castiel still felt a gnawing urge to attack but at the moment he felt too tired from the light. It should at least last them a couple of days, depending on how long they were trapped in here. 

 

“What is your name?” he asked, instead turning his remaining energy to at least knowing the name of the person who would likely end up killing him in his sleep. 

 

“Dean...” 

 

“Dean...? That’s a bizarre name.” 

 

“We’ve got a different tongue down there. I’m guessing you and your siblings have some sort of ethereal name passed down from the Gods or some shit.” 

 

“My name is Castiel… My sister’s name is Alaina, my mother’s name is Devana, and my brother’s name is James…Though for all you know I could be a single child.” 

 

“Figures...Your mother’s name is Devana? What, is that a common name up there or something?” 

 

“Not really.”

 

“So your mother is the Queen...That would make you a prince.” 

 

“I suppose it would, though I have to ask how you’re so well versed in the politics of our city.” 

 

“When you’re the son of a military strategist married to the Queen word doesn’t have to travel far to get to you. I’m sure your mother knows the name of my step-mother.” 

 

“Elizabeth...So you too are a prince…” 

 

“Not by blood...but yes. My brother and I are next in line for the throne due to a political marriage.”

 

“Then it would be unwise for us both to murder each other.”

 

“We both have siblings. It’s not like we’d be truly missed.”

 

“You underestimate our city…” Castiel said, finally formulating a plan that might just keep him alive. If only he could hold on on attacking Dean maybe the both of them could get out of here with only minimal injuries. “I’ve been raised to take over the throne, not my siblings. Killing me would most definitely incite a stronger war between our people. They would not stand for my death.” 

 

“Why should I care about this?” 

 

“You’re a prince. You’re supposed to care for your people...You’re doing a poor job.” 

 

“It’s kind of kill or be killed down there…” 

 

“Your kind truthfully disgusts me...Though I think you’re lying. I can tell by the look in your eyes that even you know this would be a bad idea. Though I can’t imagine The Under City really cares anymore after you burned down our hunting grounds.”

  
  


Dean didn’t respond, only sat on the opposite side of the cave. He gazed down at the ground for a moment and Castiel could see he was fighting not to say something. 

 

“We’re not proud of that...That’s all I’m saying.” 

 

“Most likely because you know it will incite more hostility.” 

 

“It was an accident. Why would we purposefully burn down your hunting grounds? We don’t need more of you on our territory.” 

 

“To incite violence. To kill off our kind.” 

 

“It would be nice, but no, that’s not what happened.” 

 

“And I suppose you won’t tell me why this happened…” 

 

“No. I wouldn’t even be talking to you if we weren’t stuck in this cave.” 

 

“I don’t know why I expected more from something like you.” 

  
  


Dean was glaring at him now, his hands clenched where they rested on his knees. He could tell that he was fighting not to kill him now. He wasn’t sure what he had said, or of it was a combination of the things he’d said, that brought on such anger but he couldn’t say he was truly surprised. Even now he felt the tug of violence bubbling and burning in his body. 

  
Dealing with this anger would be hard for the both of them, if either of them even survived the night without killing each other. 

 

 

 

_**Art, that I forgot last time:** _

 

_ Devana:  _

 

 

_ _

 

 

_ Alaina:  _

 

_ _

 

 

_ James: (they are more or less twins)  _

 

_ _


	3. Release and Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW chapter. Stay tuned for NSFW art at the end.   
> I'm sorry about this I promise this will stop sucking.

It had been nearly a week since their imprisonment and things were starting to get far tenser than they had been. Hunger and thirst were beginning to set in. It was clear that they were meant to starve to death in ideal conditions so that someone could reap the rewards of their bodies, whatever they planned on doing with them. Castiel would be more concerned with someone killing dragons were he not currently the one trapped and hungry. 

  
  


Tension was high and that led to a few scuffles. The scuffles led to an unexpected source of temporary nourishment. Truthfully it was probably not good for the both of them, but it helped them feel a little less thirsty. It happened after an argument; Castiel wasn’t even sure how it started or what it was but after a deep slash to the chest and being pinned to the ground, Dean was lowering his head to his skin and licking up the blood. At first Castiel was very confused and slightly amused because it was almost like he was nursing from him, but there was soon an unspoken understanding of just what was happening. 

  
  


After allowing Dean to lap at the wound he attacked in his own way, grabbing the dragon’s arm and sinking his teeth into it. Dean didn’t bother to pull away and Castiel found himself sucking from the wound. It was disgusting and it made both of them feel slightly weaker but it stopped the thirst and even a little bit of the hunger. He felt ashamed as he clung to his skin and was forced to satiate himself with such desperation though it was not like Dean hadn’t done the same. It was better than nothing, or for that matter urine which both of them decided wasn’t happening. With their lack of water it would provide very little satiation and be disgusting, but it also contributed to a pain they were too shy to talk about but the both of them knew it. 

  
  


The scuffles stopped there for the most part. They had a better understanding and tolerance for each other after that. They drew each other's blood for another day in very slow increments to avoid bleeding out. It made them slightly weak but dragons were able to heal easier than humans. More blood would be produced quicker and allow themselves to feed from each other. They weren’t exactly meant to feed on blood, like the vampire, but they did what they could. 

  
  


This understanding of each other allowed them comfort one night when the temperatures became very low. In this cave the cold was even worse. Dragons could survive cold to a point, and the temperature was not cold enough to actually freeze them immediately, but the fact that they had been feeding on each other's blood left them somewhat vulnerable. With their hunger, thirst, and slightly cooler blood, the cold had the chance to kill them slowly if they didn’t find a source of warmth. 

  
  


When what Castiel assumed was night finally fell and the temperatures dipped more the both of them realized the only way they could survive the night and sleep was to sleep together. It was bizarre and uncomfortable, and it made Castiel nervous and a little angry to be pressed so close to the dragon on the small outcrop they’d been taking turns sleeping on. The both of them had wrapped their wings around each others bodies and it was strange to feel skin instead of feathers. He was also uncomfortable by the way that, while Dean slept, he dug the talons of his wings into Castiel’s skin as though he was holding on like some kind of wayward bat. 

  
  


Castiel woke many times that night, uncertain if it was discomfort or something else. It was restless and he wanted to pull away from him were he not afraid of freezing in the night. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sleeping, or what time it was outside. For several days he had been steadily losing touch with the concept of day and night, but what troubled him now was the heat he felt. It was almost like a fever and it was clouding his mind with confusion. His body felt like it was burning and he instinctively pulled away from the other dragon. 

  
  


Dean stirred and Castiel felt a jolt of fear, but also excitement. It was then that he realized what was happening. There was a heat between his legs and liquid on his thighs that told him that this was the beginning of his estrus. He wasn’t sure what had caused it or if it was just that time of the year but he was certainly in trouble. In his culture a dragon in estrus was often locked away so they could make no mistakes until they met their chosen mate and finally settled down to have children. Castiel was not alone this time and Dean being there was starting to drive him crazy. 

  
  


He could feel jolts of pleasure and lust stemming from his chest and he cursed the day he thought it was unobtrusive to pierce one of his nipples. When their species came of age it was often common place to start piercing things; that was their culture. It was almost like a right of passage. Castiel wanted a pierce things he didn’t think would cause him much trouble, so he chose his ears, one nipple, and his navel. His sister had pierced the bridge of her nose, her chest, and her ears. James, who was a bit of a black sheep of the family, pierced nothing. It was one reason why he was not chosen to take the throne as he did not keep close to their ideals. 

  
  


When his heats started he realized that piercing his nipple was a bad idea as it just turned him on more. He had never really thought of it as a sexual organ until then. Any attempt to take it out or touch it just made it worse. It was doing the same thing now and if he had known it was coming he would’ve taken it out. Instead he was forced to ignore it, lying on his back and praying that the frigid air would at least cool him down. Castiel fought to not reach his hands between his legs and try to take care of some of the urge and need, but right now he was fairly contained in the way of genitals. Everything was still pulled inside his sheath but if he touched himself at all that may change and he didn’t want Dean waking up to that. 

  
  
  


He glanced over to find the other dragon still asleep. Maybe he could try to take some of the edge off before he woke up. Glancing over at the sleeping form not nearly far enough away, Castiel very slowly trailed his hand down his body until it was slipping beneath the cloth he wore around his waist. Dean seemed like he was comatose for some reason, so maybe he just had enough time to relieve himself of this need. Avoiding using the index finger which held the long, taloned ring he pushed three of his fingers against the opening of the slit. The simple touch sent pleasure like a warm wave sweeping over his lower half. He had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from making a sudden noise. 

  
  


It was only a few more quick strokes and he felt his sheath finally open, his cock springing forth from his insides and brushing against his skirt. He took in a sharp hiss, wanting to smack himself for even making that much noise. Castiel wasn’t so much interested in his cock though; sure, it was nice, but he had a much more sensitive area beneath it. He brushed his hand along his cock briefly and slipped downwards. He, like the rest of his species, was technically dual gendered. There were males and females, built differently by their gender, but they had both sex organs. Despite that Castiel was technically male he was born to be bred. That meant that his female sex was more sensitive than his male sex. He liked to deny it but the truth is that he’d rather be fucked than do the fucking. Due to such, he found touching himself lower was far more pleasurable and easier to orgasm. 

  
  


He circled his fingers around the clit briefly before pushing them down and inside of himself. Unlike female women, and like some males of his species, the inside was almost as responsive as his clit. It was another reason that Castiel knew he was supposed to be bred instead of the one releasing his seed into another. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d fucked himself with his fingers and imagined, as he scratched the insides with his claws, that some dominant dragon would take him hard and fuck him to pieces. It wasn’t unlike what happened now, so relentlessly thrusting his fingers into his cunt that some of the inner flesh became scraped and scratched. There was blood on his fingers mixing with the slick fluids that coated the area. 

  
  


His breath picked up slightly and he struggled to keep quiet as he knew even this soon he was starting to get close. He only hoped that this would satisfy both areas, as sometimes he’d still maintain an erection afterwards and this would be irritating given the situation. After a moment he forgot where he was and could only focus on the pleasure. He let out a muted moan as he was seconds from pushing himself over the edge, his eyes closed tightly to everything else in the world. He bit down on his lip and stifled another cry as he arched his back and closed his thighs around his wrist. 

  
  


His eyes snapped open in shock as he felt a hand close around his wrist, pulling his hand away. He felt his heart dropping into his stomach as he settled his gaze on the other male, who was very clearly awake now with his hand clasping so tightly around his wrist he could feel the bones pressing together. 

 

“I always pictured you guys as saints...You know, sitting up there on your thrones and committing to a life of celibacy acting all prim and proper and trying to distance yourself from us as far as you can, what with us...fucking in the under streets like animals. Which isn’t true, by the way...and clearly, neither is what I thought. I mean we all had a feeling but you guys just seem so...pure.” 

  
  


“That’s so fucking stupid…” Castiel mumbled, taking in a breath through his teeth as he glared at him. He would have liked to be more intimidating but his entire form was trembling from his halted need, and his words wavered in between shaking breaths. “If we were celibates we would have died out by now.” 

  
  


“But still...I think I’m kinda right. I don’t think you’d be masturbating next to me unless you were in heat.” 

 

“I’m not...we don’t do that,” Castiel choked out, so very clearly lying but he couldn’t admit to Dean the state he was in. He felt it less shameful to just be pleasuring himself rather than admit he was so vulnerable. 

 

“Bullshit.” Dean said with a condescending laugh. “Even I can smell how sweet those pheromones you’re pumping out are making you smell right now.” 

  
  


Dean finally released him, but before Castiel could move he placed his knees and hands on either side of his body. The other dragon placed his hand beneath his jaw, tilting his head up as he kept hold of it. “I bet you’re just begging to be fucked right now. You seem submissive....like you’re just born to be bred.” 

 

“Is this amusing to you?” Castiel spat, tempted to jerk his head sideways and bite his hand. His body had other ideas, though. As much as he hated it that simple touch was driving him crazy. He felt hot and wet between his legs, both of his sexes throbbing with need and he almost wished he could flip the other dragon over and ride him. He wouldn’t give into these instincts, though...he couldn’t. He’d never forgive himself. 

  
  


“It’s a little funny...It’s also pretty hot. Don’t get me wrong I’d rather kill you than fuck you but...you know, pheromones.” 

 

Dean tilted his head up a bit more, nearing him and suddenly fastening his lips against his. It startled Castiel; angered him, and he bit down on the dragon’s lower lip. Tasted the copper that flooded his mouth which seemed not to bother Dean in the least bit. 

  
  


Everything in him wanted to push him away but his body refused, and when Dean slipped his hand between his legs Castiel was done for. He shuddered and let out a breath into Dean’s mouth when he felt a hand brushing his cock, but this was not what he wanted. He reached down to grab the dragon’s hand, pushing it downwards until it was where he wanted it. Dean took the bait easily and pushed his fingers inside the slick opening. 

  
  
  


For the moment his aggression has subsided, and all there was was passion. He kissed Dean like he needed it to live. It was frantic and bloody with the wound on on Dean’s lip. With one hand tangled in his hair and another resting on his side, he rolled his hips against Dean’s hand. It only took a few seconds more before he found himself tilting his head back, dragging his claws against Dean’s skin and letting a few heavy pants into the air as he came, clenching tightly around Dean’s fingers in a steady pulse. To his dismay, as he had thought, it had not taken care of his erection and he found only momentarily solace after the orgasm. The need was back within a few moments. 

  
  
  
  


After a few moments Dean pulled away from him, sitting back between his legs and iddly fiddling with the chain keeping his skirt around his waist. 

 

“Are all of you like this, or just you?” Dean asked. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Are you all...you know, do you have both parts?” 

 

“We’re all like that.” Castiel said, irritated that Dean was asking him questions. His entire body was vibrating inside with need, even worse now after he’d already climaxed he found. This wasn’t how it usually happened. Sure, sometimes he would have to masturbate a few times but the need was never this strong. Was it because he was with another dragon? Was his body screaming at him to let nature take its course? 

  
  


Dean ran his hand down Castiel’s thigh and he shivered. He parted his legs and raised his hips in desperation. 

 

“Have you ever been fucked before?” Dean asked, and there was an air of amusement and debauchery in his voice. 

 

Castiel let out a breath and swallowed, shaking his head. “We are locked away until our heats end.” 

 

“That’s a shame.”  

 

Dean wrapped his fingers around the chain around his hips and pulled roughly. It snapped and sent jeweled bits scattering across the stone. He tore the skirt from his body and left him exposed, in nothing more than the jewelry that adorned his body and the decorative chains that still hung around his waist. 

  
  


“Do you want to be fucked?” Dean said, grabbing him by the hips and dragging him forward. He was silent as he grinded his groin against his. Castiel let out a shaky breath as he did, and he bit down on his lip and nodded. 

 

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Dean goaded. “What was that?” 

 

“Yes,” he whimpered out. “Please.” 

 

“You want your first time to be with someone like me?” 

 

“I don’t care,” Castiel hissed, “Just...don’t come inside.” 

 

“Don’t plan on it,” Dean said as he grinded himself against his cunt again. “I’m not a gentle.” 

“I don’t care.” 

  
  


Dean gripped Castiel’s hips and sunk his claws in, grinding himself against his groin until suddenly he was being violently penetrated. He took in a deep gasp, his back arching and he scraped his claws over the ground, digging into the dirt. It was painful and he could feel something trickling out of him. He felt torn and bloody but he felt relief to be filled. Dean at least kept still to allow him time to recuperate.

  
  


He leaned over suddenly, almost lying on top of him but keeping himself braced with one of his arms. He used the other to push off his own lower garments before pushing down on Castiel’s shoulder. It was clear that Dean was trying to keep him pinned down. He wanted to be in control;dominate him as much as he could. At the time Castiel didn’t care, as long as he was getting the relief he needed. 

  
  


Dean thrust against him again, gentle at first but that was only for a moment. The next thrust was rough and it rocked his body. It hurt but he was beginning to ignore the pain. He found his hand traveling to Dean’s side but the dragon grabbed his hand, pinning it above his head as he thrusted against him again. That time it felt good and he let out a pleasured breath. Dean’s hand traveled down his arm, gripping his chin and pushing his face up to look at him. 

  
  


He thrust into him again and Castiel couldn’t help but let his eyes fall shut, taking in a deep gasping moan. The pain was leaving now and it felt so much better. He felt relief, like the past weeks meant nothing. He didn’t care about the hunger and the rage he’d felt because in that moment he felt the utmost satisfaction. 

 

“Fuck you’re pretty,” Dean suddenly breathed out. Castiel assumed it was the heat of the moment and neither of them said anything about it but Dean had been making a conscious effort to look him in the eye. 

  
  


He leaned down to kiss him again as he picked up his pace, missing a few times as Castiel tilted his head back in pleasure. He only kissed him briefly before kissing down his jaw, sucking on his neck and digging his claws into his shoulder where his hand now rested. He didn’t care about the pain or the blood that came to the surface and ran down his skin. 

  
  


He was finally able to loop his hand around to rest against Dean’s back, to dig his claws in just above the wing joints connecting to his shoulders. To scratch and draw blood each time Dean thrust into him, his fingers tightening as he let out gasps and moans of pleasure. He found it didn’t take much to bring him close to orgasm again, even with the hard and aggressive thrust barraging his insides. It should hurt but it felt good. It added an extra burst of pleasure that made him shiver as Dean scraped his fangs over his collar bone. 

  
  


It only took one final thrust to push him over the edge, and Castiel dug in his fingers tight into Dean’s back. His other hand scraped hard at the ground and tore up the dirt, his muscles tightening in a rhythmic pulse on the cock inside of him. He felt a sharp stinging pain in his clavicle and realized that he had been bitten and rather hard. After a moment he saw stars bursting behind his eyes and it felt as though he’d left the physical world behind. He finally came to feeling heavy and limp on the ground. He felt sated and found he was no longer erect and thought he may have come both ways as he noted slick white beads of come on his stomach. 

  
  


“You didn’t come in me did you?” Castiel asked after a moment, his breath still heavy as he struggled to recuperate. He couldn’t say his first time was particularly special, although it was pleasurable and very violent. He had to say he enjoyed it but perhaps if he took the time to mate with someone he actually cared about it could be better. 

 

“No, you’re fine,” Dean said, also sounding a bit winded. 

  
  


Dean pulled on his own garments, and Castiel realized he wouldn’t be able to clothe himself. The chain was broken and he might have been able to bind the metal using magic but he couldn’t muster up the energy to do it. He could barely create light much less melt metal together. It was then that he realized, as he righted himself, how sore he was. He felt tired and a little bit ashamed. The need had abated for now but he couldn’t help but think of himself as a failure for giving in like this. 

 

“This means nothing…” Castiel said, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to be descent. “You were convenient.” 

 

Dean laughed at him and sat against the far wall. “I didn’t think so.” 

  
  


Castiel thought that even in his mind it was worth noting that after sex, he felt less compelled to rip the dragon’s throat out. It had been diminishing some for a while now but now he truly felt calm, albeit ashamed. Perhaps it was the effect of dual orgasms so close together. He thought that he may have even come three times technically. With this thought in mind he quickly attempted to clean himself up the best he could, using the underside of his ruined garment to wipe away the mess on his stomach. 

 

Castiel could see Dean eyeing the bite mark on his collar bone. There was a sense of nervousness behind that blackened gaze that Castiel couldn’t quite place. Why was he worried about that of all the wounds he’d inflicted upon him in the past? Whatever it was he said nothing and Castiel preferred to do the same. He’d rather not speak to him if he didn’t have to and push the knowledge of what had happened deep in his mind where it would never see the light of day. When he left this cave, if he did, this knowledge would die with him. This would be a temporary solution to a problem he usually took care of himself; it would just be different this time.  

  
  
  
  


He jumped as a sudden deafening noise shook the cave. He turned his gaze upward but of course saw nothing. Something was rocking the cave and the rocks were beginning to split. Dean seemed to perk up, not just with the prospect of getting free but almost with a knowing gaze. Castiel shielded himself as the rocks burst with a deafening crack and rained down upon the ground of the cave. He looked up to find a massive dragon hovering above them. It was clearly a Coraxo but it’s body appeared to be made of molten rock with fire in its veins. 

  
  


Using its massive tail it smashed apart the remaining bits of the cave before descending in front of it. Dean was already standing and rushing towards it but it wasn’t unusual to be running towards his kin. He felt a surge of fear and suddenly and debated trying to run now. Would he escape two of them now that he was weakened? 

  
  
  


Before Castiel could even think about leaving the beast exploded. It sent blood and gore splattering along the ground and leaving in its wake something more humanoid. This must have been how the Coraxo changed to human form. He had caught Dean at the tail end of it but he hadn’t actually seen it. He watched as the blood still on his body seeped into his skin and became one with him again. 

  
  
  


In its wake stood a tall man, built more than Dean and perched on black scaled legs dotted with orange stripes not unlike his wings, which looked similar to the form he took as a dragon. A good majority of him seemed to be themed in orange and black. Black and orange markings around his eyes, which held shimmering black sclera and a hazel gem like iris, slightly covered by the chestnut mane of silken hair beneath glistening amber horns. His clothing was of a rougher leatherwork, but with a furred mantle around his shoulders. It wasn’t unlike what he’d seen of the Coraxo so far. 

 

“Sam...How the hell did you find me?!”

“I’ve been looking for you for days. I smelled...pheromones and started senseing you around here.”  

 

Castiel blushed and buried his face in his knees still unsure of what he was going to do in this situation. He felt stronger now but he had not eaten in so long he didn’t think he could attempt dragon form, much less fight the two dragons in it. 

 

“Looks like you’re good for something after all,” Dean said condescendingly. 

 

The man who apparently went by the name of Sam looked him over and then glanced back to Dean. 

 

“It’s obvious what went on here...I’ll keep this between us. But what are we going to do with him?” 

 

Dean turned to him and Castiel felt shame in the way he cowered. Why the hell wasn’t he running? Was he resigned to this fate? Even free he felt despaired. 

  
  


“I’ve got one more favor to ask you Sam, and then we’re even.” Dean glared down at him with an intense gaze. Castiel fought not to cower down further, and instead matched the intensity. “Get out of here. Go back home and don’t say shit to anyone about this, do you understand? If anyone asks you were alone in that cave.” 

  
  


Castiel raised a brow at him in surprise but decided not to think on it. The minute he was given permission to go, Castiel gathered his clothing and ran. His legs were shaking beneath him but he refused to give up. He had to get away from there and fast. Several minutes away he broke into a sprint, using the momentum to turn and take flight in his draconic form. He was running on fumes and instinct as he headed home, soaring above the clouds with far less fear about being attacked now. He just needed to get home. 

  
  
  


He barely even acknowledged when he’d arrived in his city, feathered wings brushing the tops of buildings before he rose to the peak of the city. It was then that his energy ran out and he found himself crash landing in front of his home, consciousness fading out moments later. 

 

**Art:**

 

**Sam:**

** **

** **

** **

 

**Sex**

 

 

**Dean Nudes:**

** **

**Those are striped scales not an infection.**

 

**Cas nudes (looks kind of derp sorry)**

 

** **

 

[ **If you want to know how Cas' junk works click this link. I did not want to post it here because it is incredibly graphic and close up.** ](https://i.gyazo.com/4257d7e0b411aa0dbea6a6bf1f191e68.png)

 

 


	4. Coma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I didn't jump the shark on this one.  
> Art at the end.

 

 

    There was pleasure… There was pain. There was a beast draped in stars that swam within the cosmos and writhed like a serpent through impossible waters made of glistening light. That beast was him; blackened and oozing death into the waters like a spreading infection. He roared into the nothingness and in his thunderous screams were gasps of pleasure and cries of pain coming from deep within him and creating a cacophony of muffled voices from one body.

  


    Suddenly he was reaching up, hands raised towards the stars in a now humanoid form. His body writhed; arched...he felt such incredible pleasure and pain intertwined. He was seeking something; a face or presence he couldn’t identify. The thought brought him pain and yearning. He arched in pain and saw his vision fading. The darkness and twinkling stars faded away into light. It turned to blue with swirling bits of gold. There was a voice in his ears that was faded and garbled. He couldn’t make out any of the words before the blue and gold faded into the blackness of the cosmos again.

  
  


    He was lying in the pool of light again that shimmered with stars that draped over him like a thin fabric and flowed like liquid. His eyes were drawn to a pulsing below him. A flashing red light glowing beneath his skin, spreading from a wound on his chest and down to his groin. It spread out like an infection and pulsed heavily in his abdomen. He felt ill… The world rushed and melted away and suddenly he was assaulted again by visions of swirling blue and gold. He was moving, falling forward and his stomach lurched. He felt incredibly dizzy but far more lucid and in control. He found a bowl in front of him that he spilled fluid-like contents into a hand on his back.

  


    He realized in a moment after he finally finished that he was in his room. He glanced along the walls with their blues and damask prints, and swirling bits of golden accents. His vision was still fuzzy and swirling, and his breathing was coming out in shakey pants as he trembled. What had happened…? He felt a sudden sting in his clavicle and glanced down to find a bandage there. He wasn’t sure what possessed him but he pulled it from his skin, whimpering in pain as he revealed what was beneath. A string of brownish tissue clung to the bandage itself and on his clavicle was an incredibly infected wound. It was oozing and blackened, pus seeping down his chest and dead flesh sloughing off the wound as it was exposed.

  


    There was movement beside him and he looked to his side to find his sister sitting at his armoire with a wooden tray supporting a bowl of water, rags, and bandages. She wet the rag and came to his side again, wordlessly pressing the rag to the wound. He hissed and drew away but she did not falter.

 

“How did I get here…?” Castiel finally asked.

“James found you naked in front of our house...You’ve been here ever since and we’ve been treating this infection on your chest.”

 

“Ever since…?”

 

“You’ve been out for a month, Castiel…”

 

“I don’t understand...A month?”

 

“We’ve never seen anything like this. You’re very sick. You were missing for about a week before you came back. Do you remember?”

 

Castiel dug into the recesses of his mind to try to recall the events that had led up to this. The cave… and someone else. A man named Dean… No, he was alone. That was the story he would tell them.

 

“I came across a cave. It was very cold and windy and I sought shelter from the coming storm but became trapped. There was some kind of barrier. It was a mass graveyard. Someone has been trapping and killing dragons. I was lucky to escape… but my memory of the time there is clouded. I can't remember how I even escaped.”

 

Alaina looked at him almost accusingly as though she didn't believe him. Was his lying that obvious? She was silent as she stood from beside him, and went to retrieve the bandages to redress them. She was silent ever still as he watched her dainty hands gingerly applying the bandages, as though she were weaving a fine silk. Her claws suddenly became entangled in the gauze, her fingers slipped and she tore the woven cloth. The sense of calm and delicateness that she held moments before and she violently pulled the ruined gauze from his chest. The skin stuck, pulling away as she did causing him to hiss in pain.

 

    She tossed the gauze to the floor and half turned to retrieve more gauze but ended up placing her head in her hands instead. There was a sense of distrust and irritation in the way she sat. There was a fury building within her tiny, doll-like body that betrayed her usual innocent visage. She mumbled into her hands a string of curses before finally speaking something that was of use to him, “I was hoping you’d tell me the truth.”

 

“But I am…”

 

“Don’t lie to me! Do you think I’m stupid?!” She snapped.

 

He recoiled at the sudden violent outburst. How did she know? Did she know something he didn’t? She looked up at him with a sadness in her eyes. One of distrust and lament for something he didn’t understand. A sort of fear that hid behind the sadness lapped out like waves gently against the rough sands of her dismay.

 

“I know you’re lying to me. You couldn’t have been alone. Do you know how hard it’s been for me to hide your true state from Mother?”

 

“My true state?”

 

“The healer we called, after we found you...After she told us that she couldn’t wake you, and heal the wound on your chest, that you had somehow….conceived. I know basic biology, Castiel. This is a bite wound. This is from something that had to get close enough to bite you. This is from something humanoid. This is not from us...and whatever abomination is growing in your womb...is not from us. Not from our people. What have you done?”

 

    Castiel swallowed heavily as a lump formed in his throat. His pulse thudded in his chest and he felt sick. Conceived…? How could this be? Dean had said he was okay. That he’d not come inside....He was lying, but why? Castiel knew that Dean would not purposefully do this to him. There would be no end game. Was this bite on his clavicle meant to kill him as assurance to destroy whatever spawn he’d created? Was it truly an accident? His claws had left no permanent damage but clearly something was in that bite. The Coraxo were not supposed to be venomous, and he’d been bitten and scratched several times before he’d gotten to the cave. What exactly had happened?

 

“There was another...but I’m forbidden from speaking about him. He told me he’d kill I me if…”

“Can you not name a father? A species?”

 

Castiel swallowed again; what could he do? How could he tell his sister...his family, that he’d been impregnated by the enemy? He couldn’t decide if it would be worse to lie or tell the truth. He let out a shaking breath and managed to finally tell the truth.

 

“Coraxo…”

 

“What?! Why? How?!”

 

“He tried to kill me! He chased me into that cave and we were trapped...I went into heat, he was there...I couldn’t stop myself. I got out because one of his kin found him and broke the trap. He told me to leave, and he didn’t outright tell me he’d kill me but the implication was clearly there…”  

 

Alaina was silent in thought before she spoke the words Castiel had never thought he'd hear her say.

“We can fix this… We have to fix this. Mother will not stand for this. She will have you banished if she learns of this.”

“Fix how? What is there that can remedy this?”

“An elixir… it will cause a miscarriage, but it's dangerous. It can make you very sick and I don't think you're strong enough…”

“I'll take my chances. What other choice do I have?”

 

In truth there was a tinge of sadness at what he was about to do, but there was also a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd been so very defiled.

Alaina nodded and rushed from the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He still felt an intense nausea deep in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn’t sure if it was from fear or morning sickness… He felt disgusted that such filth was residing in his own body, and it was his fault. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind he felt regret and sadness. There was a pull to refuse the elixir; that this could be a good thing, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He would become a pariah and be exiled from his home. How would he survive on his own? There was also a longing within him to keep the child because it was Dean’s and a yearning for the man himself. He didn’t understand this; Dean treated him terribly, and he was the enemy. What was this need he had?

 

    He jumped as the door opened again and Alaina rushed in holding a bottle with a dark liquid inside and a large bowl. He felt fear at the prospect of what he was about to do, and curiosity about how his sister knew about this elixir and how she acquired it so easily. It was something that he probably would never ask her. She glanced at the door again before stepping forward and placing the bowl in front of him, then handing him the vial.

 

“This is going to be rough. If you have to throw up, do it in the bowl but try to keep it down. I’ll take care of the rest of the mess.”

 

    Castiel pulled the small cork from the bottle and was immediately greeted with something that smelled like death and alcohol. He held back the bile that threatened to spill from stomach as he prepared to do this. He had to go through with this… He took the bottle to his lips and threw his head back, chugging it in one go. The liquid made his throat burn and his stomach churn. He choked and sputtered as he tried to recover from the liquid assault. It wasn’t long before he was gagging and trying not to vomit.

 

“Try to keep it down,” Alaina said as she put her hand on his back, rubbing in small circles to try to soothe him. It failed and he ended up spilling bile and dark liquid back into the bowl. Whatever she’d given him was fast acting though. He felt hot, dizzy...he was burning up and his vision was fading fast.

 

“Stay with me,” Alaina said, but her voice was fuzzy and muffled. He couldn’t breathe and he took in a rattling gasp that sounded and felt like coming death. After that moment he suddenly lost most of his consciousness. The world around him was black but he could hear muffled speech. There was a bang; yelling and accusations. His mother, his sister...his brother. They were here but he couldn’t see them or fully understand what they were saying.

  


    The voices became more and more muffled until he heard or felt nothing. He was in a haze for what seemed like forever. He vaguely felt sensations and heard muffled noises on occasion, and at one point he thought he may have woken. There was a brief moment of darkness, dampness, teeth and heat, but he was unconscious only moments later. When he finally awoke it was sudden. It was in a bed he didn’t recognize, in a room that was dark and smelled of Earth with a slick dampness between his legs. Where was he?

 

 

_**Art:** _

_**Cas in his dream:** _

 

_** ** _


	5. Captive

Chapter 5

 

    It took him only a few minutes to realize that this was not in fact a dark room, but a dark curtain. He could see small rays of light filtering through the curtains and there was something not so natural above him. Like a tarp that had been thrown over the bed haphazardly to leave him in the dark. He wasn’t sure if this was a kindness or something more sinister. He felt uneasy in this place…

 

    He shifted and felt the slickness beneath him again and shuddered in disgust, pulling back the blankets to see the damage. There was blood; not completely fresh. It was slightly damp but was drying into a sticky mess. But that’s all it was...blood. There was no indication of any actual miscarriage. The blood was fresh enough that he knew it had to be recent, but dry enough to know that it had more or less stopped. He felt a jolt of irritation and anger in his stomach at the sight. Why had it failed? He held hope that maybe later he could purge the vile thing from his womb but he doubted this now. Where would he find another elixir? He didn’t want to physically injure himself trying to kill it any other way.

 

    He heard movement coming from the room outside of his artificial darkened cavern. There was a shuffling before the curtains opened and flooded the area with light. He squinted and saw orange and tan blurs in his vision humanoid in shape. As his vision cleared he found he was staring down the face of a familiar looking Coraxo, who he couldn’t exactly place at the moment but his presence was enough to instill terror. Forgetting that behind him was infact just cloth he attempted to back away and ended up tumbling onto the floor. He narrowly avoided a very stoney looking dresser but the stone, cold floor didn’t do much to make his fall any softer.

  


“I’m not gonna hurt you,” the man said, and Castiel recognized the man as the one who had accidentally come to his rescue; he thought his name might be Sam.

 

“Why am I here?” He asked, his voice fearful and somewhat hoarse. He realized he was thirsty and his throat was dry, making his throat feel tight and scratchy.

 

“I was near your home...you fell from the clouds and I managed to catch you before you hit the ground.”

 

    There were a lot of questions swirling around in his mind but the fall and sudden movement was making him feel really woozy. There was movement beside him but he barely registered it until Sam was pressing a jug to his lips. Instinctively he pushed it away with an understandable distrust that he didn’t want to drink anything the enemy offered him. This irritated Sam and he let out an irritated sigh.

“Look...You’re dehydrated, you’re way too thin, you’ve been bleeding for hours and you’ve got a belly full of stressed babies sapping all the energy you have left. You need to let me take care of you or you’re going to kill yourself.”

 

“I’m not ...I’m not pregnant,” Castiel lied. He didn’t want them to know so that maybe he could find a way to get rid of them before they became a problem.

 

“Okay, that’s a lie, but even if you weren’t you’re in really bad shape. When was the last time you ate?”

 

“I don’t know…” Castiel said, finally taking the jug from him and drinking it down. It was a sip at first but the moment the water touched his tongue he felt as though his entire mouth was a desert. He drank greedily as though he hadn’t had a drop in years and managed to drain the jug in a few minutes. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued speaking. “I was asleep for a month. I don’t know anything about what happened...They said I was fighting some kind of infection.”

 

“We were kind of wondering what that would do to you...it still looks pretty gross,” Sam said, glancing towards the wound that was still seeping on his chest.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“That bite on your chest. Coraxo have a sort of ...venom that only comes out when we’re mating. Usually when we mate and decide to mate for life we bite each other...It changes it us. It binds us to each other. I don’t know why Dean bit you. It may have been an accident, but it only really goes one way since you didn’t bite him. He’s not really bound to you as strongly as you are to him now.

 

We weren’t sure if it was going to do anything to you at all but you’ve started secreting pheromones that only he can detect, which is how he could tell you were pregnant. But apparently in addition to changing you it’s also poisoned you. Your body wasn’t meant for this and you’re infected. With any luck we can treat it…”

 

“How do you know Dean?”

 

“I’m his brother.”

 

“You’re nothing like him…You’re much kinder. Why don’t you want to kill me?”

 

“I’m not like the rest of them...I have a recessive gene. I don’t have the anger that comes with most of our kind. That’s why Dean’s first in line for the throne and not me.”

 

“Even so, I doubt your brother will be any sort of kind to me.” with his legs shaking he went to stand, but found that he was far too weak and was forced to sit back on the bed. He let out an exhausted breath as he tried to steady the room that was spinning around him. “I think I should go, and...try to finish what I started. Get rid of these abominations…”

 

    He vaguely noted a shocked visage on Sam’s face. It was quick and was gone in a flash, replaced with a mix of sadness and anger. A variety of conflicting emotions quite obviously creating a storm in his mind.

 

“He cares for you more than he’ll let on, and he’d be pissed to know you tried to kill his children.”

 

“What use does he have for them?”

 

“They’re his _children_. If the situations were reversed, would you not feel the same?”

 

“I am not fit to father a child, but rather to bear one, but if the circumstances were the same I would likely have no contact with him. I would be in my home, with no knowledge of whatever beast I had sired and not lying in a bed for a month fighting an infection.”

 

“And you call _us_ cold.”

 

    Castiel let out an annoyed scoff. He was not going to be lectured by a Coraxo, especially with what to do with his body. Regardless he found that he was in a predicament. He’d never be able to leave like this. He was far too weak and he had no idea where underground he was. He could walk for miles without ever reaching the entrance… He could at least take care of some baser needs while he was here, though. He felt dirty and gross and wasn’t sure of the last time he had a proper bath.

 

“I will stay here for now, and I would like to make my way back home when I am stronger...but I’d like to clean up if you’d lead me to your bath.”

 

“Sure,” Sam said as he motioned for him to follow. He hauled himself off the bed and shakily made his way after what he would once consider the enemy. The man could be leading him to his death for all he knew, and yet...what choice did he have?

 

    He made a quick glance around the area to really survey his surroundings. It seemed to be a mostly circular area, with a majority of the house itself being constrained to one room and the ‘bedroom’ positioned within a square alcove. On one side seemed to be a kitchen with a small stove and a bizarre looking throne, which behind seemed to be some sort of barred window that showed only darkness and rock. The other side seemed to be devoted to spell work and alchemy of some sort.            If he didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment he would examine the area closer. He had always had an interest in the alchemical and even had a few ingredients in tiny containers in his bedroom. But at the moment the slick stickiness down his legs was keeping his attention more than his surroundings.

 

 

            When they finally arrived (which took nowhere near the time it felt with his shaking limbs) he was again filled with a sense of coldness. The room was dimly lit and the dark stone didn’t help make the room any brighter. The most impressive feature was the deep tub built into the ground, but the rest was somewhat lackluster. Stone shelves holding cloths and bottles, a large mirror and a wooden chair with a hole in the center. Castiel realized that down here things were different. He had lft his gilded city and was forced into the ground with savage beasts. He did not think lesser of them for their homes, he just thought lesser of them in general.

 

“Do you think you can figure this out?”

“I’m not stupid…It seems pretty self-explanatory.”

“Alright…Don’t drown.”

                When Sam left and he was left to himself he wasted no time disrobing. He unclasped the skirt and let it fall to the floor before removing everything that wasn’t pierced into his skin. It was annoying to have to do it but by now the action was methodical. He unwound the chains clasped around the feathered bones of his wings, removed the gold and claws around his neck. He let the chains around his waist slip to the floor and discarded the silvery clawed rings into the growing pile. The last to go was the headdress that dangled around his forehead.

 

                With his clothing removed he reluctantly stepped in front of the mirror. His body has changed since he saw it last. His ribs were more visible than before. His cheek bones had become more pronounced as the weight left his face. His hip bones were shaper, his waist slimmer, and his collar bones jutting further. Thinking back on it his skirt did seem a bit looser. He imagined however his family had been giving him nutrients wasn’t very good. They seemed to have cleaned him some as he slept as well but he still felt the need for a long bath. Perhaps he could clean this weeping wound. 

 

                It took him little time to figure out the mechanism to pour the water into the bath. He saw no steam but the frigid waters that he descended into sent shockwaves to his core. He let out a shuttered gasp as he desperately clung to himself, yet there was no shielding himself from this cold. He was forced to attempt to bathe quickly. His breath was ragged as he reached for the rag and soap. Normally his heated blood would help in this situation but the shock was so sudden. He was so desperate that he pulled his wings around himself completely, staring downwards as he scrubbed the blood from his thighs. He was so focused on the cold and his task that he didn’t notice the presence of another.

 

“You look so small and vulnerable right now. I could probably kill you before you even knew what was happening.”

 

                He let out a shocked gasp to find Dean standing there with a smug sense of superiority written all over his features. He gave him an angry glare but knew it wasn’t wholly true. He felt resentment for the man but he could feel his very essence so very drawn and enthralled by him. The same could have been said for Dean as his smug yet vicious grin softened. He remembered what Sam had said, though. How Dean’s pull to him wouldn’t be nearly as strong. The only thing keeping him alive at the moment was probably the spawn taking residence in his womb.

“I’ve always wanted a pet bird.”

“I’m not your pet. This is simply an unfortunate situation that has forced us together. Let it be known the moment I am able I’ll be leaving.”

“Do you really think you can make it out of here without being spotted?”

“Do I have any other choice? Do you think people won’t eventually find me here? What purpose do you have to keep me here in the first place?”

“You know why. I don’t really give a rat’s ass about you, personally, but I won’t let you abscond with my children.”

Castiel couldn’t deny that those words hurt. There was a forcefulness in his voice tht almost made the statement sound untrue, but it hurt nonetheless.

“What if I leave anyway?”

“You won’t”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“Don’t try me. I won’t hesitate to chain you to the wall until I get what’s mine and then let you be their first meal.”

“Did you forget that I’m next in line for the throne? We’ve discussed this.”

“Not anymore. Your family is clearly done with you.”

“And what is your basis for this?”

“You fell from your city, unconscious. Now maybe it’s just me but I don’t think you just fell. It seems to me your family threw you away like garbage.”

“I think you’re lying. They’d have no reason to.”

“You’re carrying the spawn of the enemy.”

“Only my sister knew, and she was trying to dispose of it.”

“And you were going to let her?”

“Of course. They would never approve, and neither did I.”

“Clearly they found out, you cold bitch.”

 

                The word ‘cold’ reminded him of his position. There were still frigid waters lapping at his skin, though it had become more tolerable as he was distracted. He thought he was most likely clean enough and climbed out of the bath.

“I did what I had to do,” he said, grabbing a towel and briskly drying himself off, “And I’d do it again.”

 

He gathered up his clothing and began to redress before Dean roughly grabbed his arm.

“You’re not one of them anymore.”

“Let me go,” Castiel said sternly.

“Come on,” Dean said angrily as he pulled him roughly into the other room. Castiel struggled to cover himself with his wings as Sam stared the both of them down in confusion.

“You’re mine now. You’re not one of them.”

“What do you propose I wear?” he asked scathingly.

                Dean shoved him onto the bed far too roughly for his liking. “You’ll wear whatever I give you, if I give you anything at all.”

Castiel wanted to run for him as he left. To strike him, to claw his face away until he didn’t have to look at it anymore. He hated this, hated him, and yet…

 

_**The main area:** _

_** ** _

_** ** _

 

_**The Bathroom:** _

_** ** _


	6. Beneath The Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has gore and sex   
> also art at the end

Chapter 6

 

    Hours had passed since the incident. Dean and Sam had made themselves scarce and Castiel had not moved from the bed. He was too tired and too broken to fight. The situation seemed hopeless. What Dean said was right, even though he hated to admit it. The fall from The Great City was very suspicious. Castiel’s home was nowhere near the area Sam claimed to have rescued him at. Even if his family had abandoned him he knew he could not stay here forever. Being found out would mean certain and almost immediate death. He wasn’t even sure how Sam had even gotten him in undetected.

 

    Speaking of the devil, he watched as the two of them suddenly entered the room, carrying a woven basket full of things he couldn’t identify. He cowered down slightly as Dean neared him, closing his wings around him more tightly than they already were. The other man gave his wing a rough tap and told him to move the feathered appendages. He complied, but mostly out of fear.

 

    Dean placed his fingers on the wound, which at the moment wasn’t really oozing but nowhere near healed. A gentle press caused it to break open and cause a thick, brownish fluid to seep downwards. It wasn’t until Dean pushed a claw into the wound that he let out a pained groan. Dean pulled his finger away and brought strings of rotted flesh with him. It stung and throbbed, sending an ache through his chest.

 

“This isn’t going to work, Sam. It’s too infected,” Dean called out.

 

“Then we clean out the infection,” Sam responded, clearly somewhat far away. Dean mumbled something under his breath and suddenly grabbed him by the wrist and pulled. He managed to get off the bed but the sudden shift had his head swimming and his knees buckled beneath him, sending him to the floor. Dean sighed and bent down, hooking one arm beneath his knees and the other around his shoulders, mumbling something about how he really needed to stop falling.

  
    He instinctively gripped Dean’s shoulders as he was roughly lifted bridal style and carried back into the bathroom. He noted his clothes were gone and briefly wondered what Dean had done with them before he was unceremoniously placed at the edge of the bath. When Sam entered, holding a small bowl of some dark and gelatinous substance, he looked troubled by something. He noted that there was a dagger beneath the bowl and he felt a jolt of uncertainty run through his belly. He felt even more nervous as Dean grabbed him from behind and pulled him to his chest. He watched as Sam headed to the faucet and ran it over a cloth before returning to the both of them.

 

“Castiel…”Sam said as he knelt down beside him. “Your infection is very advanced. This paste will stop it from spreading and get rid of any venom still trapped inside but it won’t work until we get rid of all the rotted tissue.”

 

“And it will hurt…”

“Yes…Definitely.”

“What will happen if you don’t?”

“It will eventually spread to your heart, and I’m sure you know what that means.”

“Okay…”Castiel said letting out a breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

 

            Wordlessly, Sam placed the cloth to the wound. He let out a hiss when he dragged it downward and the fibers pulled away bits of skin. It sloughed of flesh that was so damaged it was nearly liquefied. He feared what was to come if even the rag hurt. Once Sam cleaned off the initial slime he took up the knife.

“Okay, deep breath.” Sam said as he neared his skin with the blade. He took in a deep breath that started to falter as the blade pressed in. The pain was burning and throbbing with the sound of squelching flesh in the air as pus squirted from the incision, yellowish with tinges of red. He let out a small whimper as it pushed deeper. He felt Dean’s hand snake over his thigh and grab his hand. It was shockingly kind but he appreciated it when Sam’s blade dislodged a large, gelatinous chunk of flesh that slipped down his skin like a wet slug.

 

            He gripped Dean’s hand hard and took in a choked gasp, tears stinging his eyes as they threatened to spill, but he refused to cry. With the second cut down the middle, where his skin was inflamed and hot, he regrettably let one tear slip. The skin split and opened up to torrents of yellowed infection. It ached and burned deep into his body and took his breath away.

 

            Sam frowned and discarded the blade briefly to reach his fingers into the wound to dig the infection from the cavity. He let out a breathless groan and closed his eyes tightly. The skin sloughed away in viscous chunks that left slimy, blackish-brown streaks down his chest. He’d never noticed, but the smell coming from the wound was nauseating. He was beginning to feel nauseated himself. From the pain, from the smell…he wasn’t sure. He leaned away suddenly as his stomach lurched, vomiting onto the stone with a damp splattering sound.

 

            Sam stopped for the moment, starting the faucet again and running the rag under the water before grabbing a clean one and wetting it. Castiel raised his head, slick saliva stringing from his lip as he panted stuttered breaths that he fought hard to even out.

 

            Sam pressed a rag to his forehead and ran it along his heated skin.

“Breathe,” Sam said as he swiped the rag along his chin. “You’re alright. We’re half way done.”

Castiel looked at Sam wearily, only hearing his voice in echoes. The world was swaying around him and the colors were melding together in a nonsensical fashion.

 

            Sam said something he couldn’t comprehend and he felt the blade sink into his skin again, but he could only utter quiet whimpers. The pain was becoming numb to him as he fell into a state of semi-consciousness. He vaguely registered the sting and the pain spreading through his veins like a polluted river. He felt at one point a burning and the smell of singed flesh drifting into his nostrils.

 

            Suddenly, he was in a bath, with hands scrubbing cloth along his body from behind. The water was cold but he felt like he was on fire. His chest burned and ached and he wished for anything to just take it away. Then, suddenly, there was the smallest relief as the rag brushed his lower half. It felt good in contrast to the pain and he yearned for more. Weakly, he gripped the hand that bathed him and pushed it to his groin again. He was met with resistance and this displeased him.

“Please…”he said breathlessly.

“You’re very sick…I shouldn’t,” came Dean’s voiced. It surprised him that Dean wouldn’t take this chance.

“It hurts…please make it stop hurting,” he said as he pressed Dean’s hand against his slit, eagerly rolling his hips towards his hand. After some trepidation he finally complied, dipping his fingers into the opening and dragging them along the sensitive insides. He let out a sigh of both relief and pleasure, tilting his head against Dean’s shoulder and parting his thighs. His hips rolled against his hand in an even fashion, and he could feel the beginning of an erection deep in his groin. In his jerking movements, his ass grinded against Dean’s crotch, causing him to give a slight hiss, hot on his ear. He shivered slightly as Dean nipped at his neck and pushed his fingers deep into the slit, rubbing the tips of his clawed digits against his clitoris.

 

            He let a soft, low groan drift out as his cock slipped forth into the now somewhat room temperature water. In desperation he grinded against the other male, desiring more than just his touch. A stuttered breath was hot against his neck as he felt thickness between his thighs and hands running along his legs. Dean gripped behind his knees, raising them to his chest and making him feel unstable. He reached behind him, gripping onto the back of Dean’s neck with his elbow. A light gasp fled is lips as he felt the thick member pushed into him. It hurt a bit, but not as much as the first time.

 

            Dean was gentle this time. He gripped his thighs a bit too roughly but his movements were more gentle. He lulled his head back against Dean’s shoulder as his lips spilled fevered pants. The other male suddenly slipped his knees between his legs and released his thighs, running one hand over his chest, the other gripping his cock and pumping in tandem with his thrusts. He jerked his hips back and pushed him deeper, then moved forward again to fuck into Dean’s hand. He let out a low sigh of a groan and arched against him, his eyes half lidded and his head swimming.

 

            He was in a bizarre state of mind at the moment. He felt a comforting pleasure but he was almost unaware of his own bodily existence. He seemed outside of his own body, able to ignore the pain he felt, and able to focus mostly on the pleasant sensations spreading through him.

 

            He was suddenly aware of the heated breaths against his ear as Dean’s hips jerked and he felt heat shooting through his body, yet he continued to fuck into him. His own orgasm came suddenly and took him by surprise. Before he knew it he was coming, letting out a shuddered groin, his stomach tensing as his cock spurted along Dean’s hand and his cunt convulsed around the member inside of him. He fell slack against Dean’s chest as his body felt weightless and relaxed. The pain and his general existence began to return but it was a bit more manageable now. He hadn’t recoverd enough to realize Dean was moving away and he fell back into the water.

 

            It was the cold and the water filling his lungs that really brought him back. He surfaced with a ragged cough, weakly gripping the edges of the bath and crawling out of it, collapsing onto the chilled floor a moment later. His chest ached and it felt as though something was squishing around in his skin. He jumped as Dean suddenly hauled him into his arms, carrying him back to the bed still damp and depositing him onto it. He pulled the covers over him, clearly not worried about anything getting wet.

 

            He left, but when he returned it was with a plate full of bread and a pitcher of liquid.

“Drink this, it will help bring your fever down,” Dean said, handing him the pitcher. It smelled foul and tasted even more so. Like iron and bitter herbs all melded together in a tepid gruel. He gagged as he drank and struggled to keep everything down. His mouth watered as his stomach churned but he scarcely managed to keep it down. His life recently was just a menagerie of vomiting and gross concoctions

“Now eat this, you need to eat something. You’re seriously underweight.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t want my kids coming out deformed?”

“No, I mean about me…”

“I think I explained that…”

“You didn’t have to do what I asked. You didn’t have to be gentle. You didn’t have to hold my hand. You could have been like you always are. So why weren’t you?”

 

            Dean fought in his mind from what he could see, as though he was trying to choose his words carefully and it caused him to hesitate.

“I can’t put you in too much stress. You’re already so fucked up. I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier…Not because I like you, but because I don’t want you to miscarry. So hurry up and get better so I don’t have to walk on eggshells around you.”

 

            Castiel didn’t know why, but it hurt. It hurt more than it should and he had to turn away to hide a tear that slipped down his face. It was entirely stupid and he hated himself for it. How could he allow a Coraxo make him cry? How could he ever allow himself to do it in front of him? He’d never felt so stupid and weak.

“Come on, you know how it is with us. You shouldn’t be surprised.”

Castiel let out a sudden sob that wracked his form. The floodgates were open and now he was actively sobbing.

“Why are you so upset?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?!” Castiel snapped, suddenly more angry than sad, yet he couldn’t stop the tears. “My life was fine, and you ruined it. You were the one who chased me into that cave. You’re the one who impregnated me, who bit me. Put me in a coma. My family banished me, you’re keeping me captive…You did this to me. I should hate you but I can’t and that’s your fault too. I can’t hate you and yet you treat me like I’m nothing. I’m not your pet, or your toy, I’m a person. Do you expect me to be okay with this?”

“Alright, stop crying…I hate to see a woman cry. I don’t hate you. You’re…alright. I won’t really chain you to the wall. It’s kind of in my nature to make your life miserable, though. Just give me some time to adjust to this, alright?” Dean said, gripping his chin and turning it to face him. He swiped his thumb over Castiel’s cheek. “You’re not pretty when you cry.”

“Am I pretty to you in general?”

“No. Not anymore. You look sick, and we need to take care of that.”

“I suppose that works…”Castiel said, feeling like just admitting this was a show of defeat but it did make him feel a bit better.

“Good,” Dean said, giving his cheek a quick an gentle slap, “Now quit crying.”

 

            Dean walked away only briefly and returned with a brown, belted, leather skirt. “This is for you.”

“Thank you…” he said quietly. He supposed things could be worse. At least he knew Dean was bluffing most of the time. He just hoped that his dislike of their species would wear off soon enough and he could be far less cold with him in the future.

 

_**Art:** _

 

_**Cas now:** _


	7. Arena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art at the end of this chapter  
> This is an incredibly graphic and violent chapter and contains non-sexual non-con and some pretty traumatic shit be advised.

                The first month trickled by like the sands through the hourglass that sat upon the brothers’ alchemy table. It was slow it felt like, but perhaps that was because he had lost track of the passage of time. He didn’t know days from weeks anymore. He hadn’t seen the sun in what seemed like forever. He had assumed a good deal of time had passed by the way he had gained his weight back, and his recovery process. Yet he still had no visible signs of pregnancy, so he knew it couldn’t have been that long. He lived in a constant fear; not of Dean much anymore, but of being found out. Dean was a little more tolerable of his feelings and Sam was there when Dean wasn’t.  He never felt he could ever really confide in one of these things, but slowly he was beginning to tolerate them more and more. He might even say he liked Sam, without some sort of mind altering infection as opposed to Dean.  

 

                It was comfort that eventually ended up being his down fall. He should not have slept with the brothers gone. It said a lot about how turned upside down his life was that he felt safest when in their care, but at this point he was exhausted. There was rarely a time he wasn’t vomiting. He welcomed the moment he could escape his life, and the vomiting, to sleep. At long last after a battle of exhaustion and spilling the contents of his stomach as far back as January he found sleep as the brothers left to attend to some political matter. The next time he awoke it was as he was being dragged down the hall. Somehow he blamed this on himself. He should not have slept. He should have held out until they returned… But now he was found out; captured. Who had tipped them off? He was thrown into a small cell before he even knew what was happening. One surrounded in stone with the only view to the outside hallway being a barred door, not much bigger than the tiny cube of a cell he was thrown into.

 

                The small space was completely bare. There was nothing there but stone. Clearly there was no mercy for those thrown into a Coraxo prison. He sat there for what seemed like hours, his stomach churning with nervousness and what was probably morning sickness, though he was able to stop himself from actually vomiting. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be in this cell, and he certainly would rather it be as clean as it could be. However his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. A pair of Coraxo came into view; a male and a female.

               

                The male was very bizarre to him. From what he could see of his face he seemed aged. From what he understood, like him and his kind, Coraxo never showed age in the traditional human sense. Yet his hair was salt and peppered with greying stubble. Most of his face was obscured by a mask-like contraption. A skull of some unknown creature was fastened to his head, with its jaw resting beneath a toothed face masked. Only one, pure black eye observed him, the other covered by a strip of leather. He was heavily dressed in dark leathers accented by scaled belts, bracers, and a toothed shoulder piece that was not unlike Dean’s. It almost blended in with his black, scaled wings, twin horns and dagger-like tail. Castiel also noted that the man had a network of scars running all over his body. This man had clearly seen battle.

                The female seemed almost deceptively innocent. She had soft features framed by black bangs, from hair that cascaded down her bosom. A silver head-piece enclosed twin buns, above a small set of rough, backwards facing horns. Her dress was short and almost corset like. It was composed of mostly black lace with small bits of leather. It contrasted the sharp leather pauldrons on her shoulders but fit well with the lace train trailing behind her. She gazed at him with piercing yellow eyes surrounded by blackness, and folded her black wings and tail behind her as she leaned forward. A smile graced her face, or rather a cruel smirk, as she reached her hand through the bars and gripped his chin.

“My, you’re a pretty bird.”

 

                Castiel felt a surge of anger; the kind of anger he was supposed to feel with these monsters. He sunk his fangs into her hand, gripping her arm and digging his claws deeply into her flesh. Suddenly he felt a hand around his neck. He looked up to find the man glaring down at him before shoving him roughly back onto the ground.

 

                The woman glared down at him, folding her arms after briefly examining her wounds. She frowned angrily at him and lowered her arms, her lips pursed in irritation.

“Someone should teach you some manners,” she said, kneeling somewhat and gripping his hair, pulling his face against the bars.

“I was going to give you a chance to leave. Should I just kill you instead?”

                Castiel ignored her comments about being let go, instead going for a more diplomatic approach. He knew what she said was most likely a lie, and he wouldn’t even give her a proper response to it.

“It would be against your best interest to kill me…I am the Prince of the Vovina. Killing me would mean all-out war between our species.”

“Does your mother know you’re gallivanting around where you’re forbidden?” she chided. “What are you doing in my unblooded heir’s home in the first place?”

So this must be the queen..She did have the power to release him.

“What would you have me do so that I may be free?” Castiel asked, defeated. There was no response as she released him, pushing him back to the ground.

“If you can survive against some of my fighters in the arena you will be free to go. If you fail…obviously, you die.”

 “And if I refuse?”

“I kill you myself…via flaying. The choice is yours, but the latter is a worse option for you.”

“What is your gain from this?”

“Entertainment. Living underground can be maddening. The people benefit from the entertainment of monthly bloodshed. We did have a human slave fighter lined up for this month’s fight but it will be much better to watch you go down.”

“You seem confident that I’ll fail.”

                She smiled a cruel smile and stepped back as though she was about to leave.

“No one ever survives, little bird. If you die… _when_ you die, you’ll die with honor.”

Suddenly there was the sound of clicking claws down the corridor. Just by the sound alone it sounded irritated. As the sound came closer he felt an overwhelming sense of calm and warmth, yet there was also a strange yearning. Suddenly Dean rounded the corner and he felt simultaneously relieved and ashamed.

“What do you think you’re doing with him?”

“Is he your property?”

“He is. He’s my prisoner.”

“Prisoner how? Why isn’t he in chains, and why do you have him?”

“He’s got a sweet ass,” Dean said shrugging. Castiel thought he heard a noise of disappointment or disgust come from beneath the man’s mask at this comment.

“That doesn’t explain anything, and he’s no longer your prisoner. Let the poor thing have a chance at life instead of drugging him. Just because you’re next in line for the throne doesn’t mean you can make these decisions.”

“You and I both know you just want to watch him get slaughtered.”

“And it will be a fine show.”

“Fine, take him. I’ll just find a nice Coraxo girl to sate my needs,” Dean said before turning to leave. He glanced at him before he left and he could see a brief sadness and worriedness in his expression. This was a ruse. Did he have a plan? The other two dispersed as well and left him alone. Castiel was very aware he might die, but he would not give in. He would fight until his body gave out to win his freedom. Even if it meant he may never see Dean again, and that thought alone made anxiety and shame coil up in his belly like a venomous serpent.

 

                It was barely a day before he was being dragged from his cell, chains around his wrist that jangled with every step as they lead him like an animal. That was what he was right now. A lion lead to the slaughter by gladiators for entertainment. They lead him down seemingly endless cold, stone corridors that all seemed like miles of mazes. Why was it like this? Was this to dissuade invading enemies?

                There was a low murmur as they continued on that he soon realized was a crowd, signaling they were closing in on the arena. His heart dropped into his stomach in fear and he felt as though he was going to faint. They lead him into a large, darkened, cavernous room with a simple arena surrounded with metal bars and stone. On the opposite end was a raised platform that wrapped around the room. Several connected stone benches surrounded the area with a small alcove jutting out in the center where Elizabeth, the queen, sat.

 

                The crowd cheered as he was lead into the arena. They unchained his wrists and shoved him to the ground.  The dirt and rock stung his knees as he glanced around at the crowd, or what he could see of him through the dim lighting. He felt rage bubbling in his belly as he looked around at the screaming faces. He felt the familiar feeling of feral anger that made him want to murder and maim.

 

                He heard the iron gate open behind him and footsteps in the dust. Suddenly his heart was pounding and his brain was on overdrive. He couldn’t move; he was terrified, angry. His brain was telling him to move but his muscles were tense and locked in place. There was laughing in his ears drifting from above and suddenly there were claws digging into his back.

“What’s the matter? Not going to defend yourself?” They laughed again and gripped his hair, yanking him upwards. “Come on, fight back. Give the people what they want!”

                Suddenly something in him snapped. He let out a shriek that should be impossible with those vocal chords and turned. He sunk his fangs into the mans face and pulled. The flesh came away like paper and chunks of tissue and blood ran down his chin as the man screamed and fell to the ground. He sank down with him and fastened his teeth to his jugular, yanking away and severing it. He struggled as he drowned in his own blood but it still wasn’t enough. He felt practically feral at the moment. He made a series of inhuman clicking hisses as he reached in and tore out his trachea.

 

                Behind him someone grabbed him by the throat and squeezed hard. Before he lost much air he reached behind him and dug his claws into the man’s eye sockets. With a swift, strong pull he tore his head from his body, bits of spine coming with it. He tried to stand but was tackled backwards with a very angry Coraxo on top of him. There were punches thrown, claws scraping and curses flying. He was only momentarily disoriented before he drew a leg to his chest, kicking upwards and sinking his talons in, ripping a hole in the stomach. The man went pale as a squelching splatter filled the air. He reached between them and into the warm wet cavern of his body, pulling the slick, long organ that was his intestines through the wound. He wrapped them around the man’s neck, pulling until he finally stopped breathing.

 

                At long last he stood, breathing heavily as he listened to the crowd hissing and booing loudly. He set his sights on the queen, narrowing his eyes and spreading his wings. She would be his next victim. He took to the air, soaring at her with tunnel vision only focused on her immediate demise, until he felt a sharp pain in his back. Then his legs, his arms, and then he realized he was no longer moving. He was swiftly yanked downwards and he hit the ground hard, feeling a sharp pain running through his torso and limbs.  He rolled over to find metal spring traps clasped into his skin attached to long chains. His eyes followed their trail to a female, who had them all clasped in what looked like a chained cat-o’-nine-tails in thin fingers tipped with silvery black claws. He noted that her outfit didn’t seem to be good for battle. Its fabric was thin and translucent, of a greyish color that made the snow white skin beneath it look darker. The thickest parts of her outfit seemed to be brown leather leg bands, blending in with the russet scales of her legs, and black wrist guards held together with string and stones.

 

With anger in her pitch black eyes, she pulled and began dragging him towards her, her long red hair shifting with the effort. Some of the traps tore free, taking flesh and blood with them as she drew them back but the ones in his legs stayed fastened in like hooks to a flailing fish. He quickly began to realize he was losing steam. All of the energy he had exhausted before was making itself apparent. He could barely fight back, gripping at the traps the best he could but failing to do any good. Before he knew it he was at her feet, looking up at her with what felt like anger, but he knew probably looked like fear. She let go of the chains, pulling him up by the hair before kneeing him in the face. She let him go long enough for him to crawl away, only to cruelly yank the chains back.

 

Her expression changed to one amusement; a cruel amusement. Her blood red lips turned to a smile, as she yanked the chain like a whip and pulled at the skin that was so tightly bound in the spikes of the trap. There was another pain that was far more pressing at the moment, though. A pain he didn’t quite understand; a pain that radiated from deep within him. Like something was reaching around and tugging on his insides, but not hard enough to cause utter agony. She stepped over to him where he’d stopped, bound by the chains in her hand, kicking him hard in the side until he rolled over onto his back.

 

Chain still firmly grasped in her hand, she lowered herself to sit on his hips, her leathery wings spread before him as though she were about to envelope him in the red and black scales of her webbed appendages. Her tail gripped him around the thigh, digging into the skin like an annoying little needle. He wasn’t quite sure what she was getting at here, but she was close way closer than he’d like her to be. He wanted to fight back but he felt so tired and so exhausted and…hurt. God, he hurt.  He found himself examining her attire again, though by accident, and felt somewhat offended. On her shoulders lay a mantle made of long feathers, and he realized now that it wasn’t just any feather. They came from his people. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone on the outside, but he knew they came from one of his brethren. A choker around her neck almost made it worse, adorned with a bird’s skull. It seemed like some cruel bastardization of his kind.

 

She smiled and pushed her hips down, hard against his abdomen and he felt a sudden sharp pain shoot through his body, and he knew something must be wrong now. After a few moments he felt something very wet trickling from between his legs; not just felt it, he heard it. It was audible, dripping onto the ground in small damp splatters. This sent fear up his spine, but it sent laughter wracking through her body.

“How did the others fall to you? I admit, at first I was angry, but clearly they were too weak to be considered fighters anyway. Yet here you are, brought down by a girl, pissing yourself in fear…” she said, and then she did the unthinkable. She reached her hand between his legs, gathering the liquid there in what he couldn’t imagine she meant to do if he actually had wet himself, but she became intrigued when she drew them forward.

“Or have you?” she said, examining the clear, blood tinged liquid on her hands. “What kind of secret are you hiding?” she asked, before pushing her hands between his legs again. Yet this time she took it much further, pushing her clawed fingers deep inside of him. He let out a pained yelp, not just from her fingers but from the pain still radiating from his belly.

 

                The grin on her features was sick and twisted. Like she’d just found out his ultimate weakness and was willing to use it against him as a form of torture. When she drew her hands back they were slick with blood, and he had to avert his eyes. He felt sick, upset…he wouldn’t cry in front of her but it was very clear that whatever had been in his womb had no chance now of survival.  

“It looks like there’s a little more to why Dean was keeping you than he let on,” she said, and she plunged her hand between his legs again and pushed deeper than before. He let out a pained groan and suddenly felt an immense pressure and pain deep within him. His body tensed, muscles suddenly contracting and pushing what was ever in there out. This time he did shed a tear, his body shaking as the woman pulled back her hand to reveal a mass of unformed tissue on her fingers.

“How cute,” she said, slinging her fingers so that it hit the ground with a damp splatter, “Or it would have been anyway.”

 

                Castiel was beginning to feel faint at this point. He felt no more pain in his abdomen but his entire mind was starting to go numb, and he was sick with the knowledge of what just happened. For a short moment his vision went black, until he felt a gust of air over him and heard an angered scream. He looked up to find Dean standing beside him, glaring down at the woman who was now seated on the ground with a deep gash across her shoulder.

“Abaddon…I never liked you, but this is too fucking far.”

“Why does it matter? Your pretty little boy…girl, toy is going to be killed no matter what now. And you? I’m sure your position for the throne is definitely compromised now. I’d probably have a better chance of ruling than you, now,” she said, and there was anger in her voice that Dean had dared to attack her. After that, he didn’t know exactly what happened. There was a loud, organic sounding explosion and then it was dark.

               

                Castiel was not unconscious, however. Rather, he felt as though he was awake but he saw nothing, felt as though he was out of his own body and couldn’t breathe. No…he didn’t need to breathe, he just was. Yet somehow, through the darkness he felt like he could see what was happening. Not entirely see, but know. It was as though someone was passing information directly into his brain like a vision or a dream. He saw flames, destruction. Heard screaming in his head and loud explosions. He saw stone breaking apart like it was nothing, and the sky coming into view, forests and trees whipping past. Villages, mountains, ground, and then suddenly he was real again.

 

                He was real and he was suffocating. He needed to breathe…He took in deep gasps, gripping grass beneath his fingers as he struggled with his lungs as though they were new. He struggled to adjust to vision in general. What he saw was real now, through his own eyes and not just visions in his head. He looked to find Dean, who looked a bit shaken and winded. His chest was heaving and his breathing came out in ragged, wheezing pants for a moment.

 

                It took him a moment of being alive to remember what happened and he could no longer contain himself. Still struggling to breathe he broke down, sobbing and shaking, struggling not to lose consciousness from hyperventilation.

“I’m sorry…” Castiel said, barely able to speak through his tears. “I didn’t mean for it to ...for them to… I didn’t want them to die.” This should have been a welcome relief for Castiel. He was free now, or he could be. He was no longer carrying the spawn of something forbidden, and yet he felt such loss and agony.

“Cas…” Dean said, coughing slightly as his breathing began returning to normal. “Stop,” he said hoarsely, dragging himself along the ground and pulling himself close. “Stop crying,” As he closed in, he suddenly gripped him tightly. His wings encircled him like a second set of arms, of which he had wrapped tightly around his middle.

“It’s okay, you didn’t kill them. I mean…you killed… _she_ killed one of them,” Dean said, his breath heavy against his skin as it vibrated through him. “But shit happens. You lost one…but there are still more,” he said, and he let his hands drift downwards to rest over his abdomen. “Coraxos have litters, not singles. I’m not happy that we’ve lost one, but…we still have a lot left. They’re still here. I can still feel them.”

 

                Castiel let out another heavy sob, not even sure if this was grateful or mournful. He decided that it was probably grateful, but he still found it difficult to calm down. Dean seemed to be sympathetic to his plight for once. He kept a tight grip on him, one hand still firm on his abdomen and the other around his ribs. There was something different about this. Dean was scared…he was angry...he was grateful. He was for once completely out of his element, and his breathing was still ragged and hoarse on his skin.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asked, before he even really realized he was asking.

“It was hard getting you out of there…I had you in my lungs. You were part of me, but you weren’t supposed to be. It hurt like a bitch.”

This would explain why Castiel suddenly felt like he was not himself, and he had thoughts and visions that were not his own. It was strange that Dean transferred his vision through his lungs, but he supposed that it had something to do with him becoming part of Dean, and having the extra brain there. It was something he didn’t really care to dwell on right now. He still felt very shaken and upset by the events. But he soon realized they had another problem…

“What do we do now?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know…but I can never go home, and neither can you.”

 

ART:

LOCATIONS:

ARENA:

DUNGEON:

 

PEOPLE:

'MYSTERIOUS MAN':

QUEEN ELIZABETH (NO RELATION TO THE BRITISH QUEEN):

ABADDON:

 

 


	8. Geyser

                The first snows began to fall the few days after they left, wandering endlessly in the wilderness on their search for any kind of shelter. Winter was coming early it seemed, its cold winds completely bypassing fall and spiting them. Dean was seemingly unaffected by it but he was freezing. It didn’t help that they were unable to find any sufficient shelter in the first place. Occasionally they found shelter in open caverns but they didn’t like to venture near caves for the fear they may become trapped again.

 

                The snow became too much for them on the fifth day and they decided to seek out a town.

“We need to find you some clothes,” Dean said as they trudged through the snow as Castiel shielded himself from the cold with the feathers of his wings. “And a better, more permanent shelter.” 

“I’m surprised you’re so concerned. You don’t seem very cold.”

“I’m used to it. And you’ve got to stop doing that. This isn’t good for any of us. For me, for you, for the…however many dragonlings you’ve got in there. I know you. You’ve spent your life in the sky in a cozy little…big house. You don’t know cold.”

“I can survive cold.”

“Not anymore. Your body regulates heat in the womb now. Coraxo women are always cold during pregnancy. Add that to the elements and you’ve got problems.”

“Do you care about me or the babies?”

Dean groaned from ahead of him, stopping briefly to vocalize to the sky as he rolled his head back.

“Cas, please…Things are different now. I almost lost you a few days ago and it really freaked me out. Now I’m an outcast, we have no home, no family. I’m tired. I don’t have the energy to argue with you. I can’t keep doing this… _We_ can’t keep doing this. So I’m going to find us an inn, and I’m going to find you some clothes.”

“I’m sorry…Thank you. It scares me.”

“What scares you?”

“That I’m nothing to you still…”

“Being aggressive to me isn’t going to make you something.”

“I don’t mean to. It’s hard for me. My mind isn’t even mine anymore…I-.”

“Save your breath…for now. Let’s focus on going to the inn.”

Castiel silenced himself, hanging his head somewhat. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t more or less heard it before.

 

                There wasn’t any poor towns nearby, or anything that would give them a room out of charity. Castiel really hoped they’d find someone willing to help them out, but the innkeeper was less than pleased when they arrived. They received snooty and frightened glances from higher class citizens. He realized that dragons were not typical clientele but it was quite rude. Castiel was the first to question the innkeeper sitting at the tavern, a dark skinned man dressed in fine robes with an effeminate voice.

“Sir…could you please spare a room? Unfortunately, we can not pay but rest assured I will find a way to repay you.” He felt awful begging for charity. It seemed beneath him, but he was so damn tired and cold.

“We don’t serve _animals_ …And we are not a charity service. Continue  to the next town, no one will serve you here.”

“It’s freezing outside, and we’ve been traveling for five days.”

“I cannot control the weather, sir. Please leave.”

                Before he had the chance to respond Dean stepped in front of him, putting his hands firmly on the wooden desk.

“If I were you, I’d really reconsider this.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll give us a room.”

“Don’t make me have to call the guards, sir.” He said with a smirk, though he could clearly tell it was one that was forced. The man was beginning to lose his patience.

                There was suddenly a smoking beneath Dean’s hands as a controlled fire began to spread across the desk. “I will burn this entire city to the ground and use its burning timber for warmth before you can even say G. Do I make myself clear?”

“Is there anything else, sir?” the man asked, swallowing nervously.

“Give us a room with a bath.”

“Certainly…if you’ll follow me.”

                The man lead them downstairs where they assumed the was pumpedup fro, and into a slightly chilly room where there sat a fire pit in the center, one large bed near the wall and a small table in the corner, covered with bottles of wine and bread.

“I wish you wouldn’t have done that,” Castiel said as the man left.

“It got us in, didn’t it? Neither of us havfe any kind of social status anymore. We need to resort to violence if need be.”

“You have a point. I’ve spent so long protecting humans, though. Not killing them.”

“Life is different now,” Dean said, stacking some fire wood in the pit and lighting it aflame. “Go take advantage of that bath. God knows when we’ll get another one.”

                Taking Dean’s advice, he headed into the bathroom and towards the large marble bath tub with an opening for lighting a fire beneath it. Convenient.  He ran the bath and lit the fire, letting out a pleased sigh as he sunk int his first hot bath in months. He felt immediately calmed and found himself almost drifting off to sleep until he felt the water around him shift.

“Scoot over,” Dean said as he climbed in. It was bizarre to find Dean completely naked. He had always been covered by cloth around him when he’d seen him, and he had removed everything else as well.

“Why are you staring?”

“You’re…undressed.”

“And? You saw me naked in the cave.”

“I really didn’t…You were too busy between my legs. I mean you’re completely naked.”

“That’s what most people do when they bathe.”

“It’s…nice,” Castiel said, somewhat embarrassed.

“That’s…good, I guess.” Dean fell silent, staring off into the distance behind his head. “What were you saying earlier?”

“That I’m confused. That part of me says I should hate you, and so I’m combative. Yet the other half is terrified that you truly hate me, and so I ask you these aggressive things because if they’re true, I can feel it coming but if I assume that you truly care and I’m wrong I fear it will slowly destroy me.”

“Cas…I know I’ve said it before but I…don’t hate you. It’s been hard for me but I got…scared when I saw you with Elizabeth and my dad. I was watching you. I should have stepped in sooner. I was hoping you’d win, honestly. But it’s different…I’m not…them anymore. I’m alone. You’re all I have now, and I almost lost you and it scared the shit out of me.”

“Your…father?” Castiel asked. He decided he wouldn’t push at the moment with what Dean had said. He didn’t want to push too far and cause him to recoil deeper into himself.

“Yes. The queen’s husband.”

“What’s wrong with him? He looks so aged.”

“He fought a lot, and he was good…but all of that fighting messed him up. Coraxo age a lot when they see a lot of battle. He lost his ability to shift and speak and he became a military strategist. It wasn’t long after mom died that he struck up a political marriage with the queen.”

“I suppose I never considered you had an actual mother…She died?”

“Yes…There was some kind of fire. Sam took after her, but it’s still his fault we’re in this mess.”

“I can’t fathom how this could at all be his fault.”

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything…doesn’t matter now. Sam shadows young dragons. He shows them around the hunting grounds. Sam was also courting some human girl near the burnt forest. He ended up there and the whelp wandered off and got into trouble. He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for Sam and his roaming dick. But it was innocent. No one maliciously burned down the forest.”

“That was…enlightening. I could never figure out why the Coraxo would get through the barrier and burn down the forest…Though I never realized that you could get through our barriers _that_ easily. I’m surprised we’ve never been attacked in our city.”

“We probably could, but out of the city’s best interest we’d like to avoid unnecessary war…despite what I said before. Since we’re designating this as…sharing time, for whatever reason, if you need to say anything else, say it. I might not be as generous in the snow.”

“I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“Is that all?”

                Castiel wasn’t sure what possessed him to say this, but he suddenly confessed something that he’d remembered from their first rendezvous. Something that didn’t need confessing at all, and yet it was like the filter had suddenly fled from his brain. “The sex has always been a bit subpar.”

Dean laughed suddenly, and it shocked him. Dean had never really _laughed_ like that around him. “The whole two times it happened?”

“Yes.”

“So when we hated each other, and when you were half dead?”

“I don’t see why this should matter. Are you defensive about your ability?”

“No it’s just not the greatest times to judge. Do you even like sex, mister ‘I sit on a cloud all day and practice celibacy for 50 years until I find the right set of tits…or a dick.’?”

“I’m only 46, and I don’t know.”

“You’re practically a baby.”

“How old are you?”

“…37.”

“So respect your elders,” Castiel said lowly, although he wasn’t even sure if he was joking or not.

“Well, now I see this as a challenge. I’m willing to bet I could show you things you’ve never dreamed of.”

“I doubt it.”

“I know how women work, and I know how men work, and I’m pretty sure I can figure out how you work.”

“I suppose this is going to end in sex…”

“Only if you want. I may be brutal but I’m not a rapist.”

“Still, do I have any choice in the matter?”

“If I can turn you on with just a kiss, you owe me.”

“What if I still don’t want to?”

“You owe me later. Just something simple. It’s up to you.”

“Alright…this was not in my plans, but I will allow you to prove yourself.”

 

 

 

Dean leaned suddenly, lips ghosting over his own for a moment. Castiel wasn’t certain what he was doing. Why wasn’t he just kissing him? Castiel leaned in to kiss him, but he found that he was less interested at the moment that he wasn’t aroused. To his surprise, Dean pulled back. He gave an amused grin from what Castiel assumed was a look of bewilderment, and leaned in again only to pull the same thing. He briefly kissed him with feather light contact, and it left Castiel really frustrated. What was he playing at?

                This happened several more times and Castiel was suddenly feeling very desperate. Why was he so desperate for just a kiss? Was it that he knew it was coming, but it never did? Just as he was about to say something, Dean reached behind his neck, holding it gently before placing a legitimate kiss on his lips. There was a sudden gratification in the action, and Castiel felt sparks. He never knew he could want it that much. Why did he want it that much…? It then occurred to him that it was because Dean withheld it. Dangled it just in front of his grasp so that he desired it, and when it finally happened it was so much sweeter.

 

                It was almost like the first time then. Suddenly he craved it, but he didn’t feel the hatred and anger he did before behind these actions. He tried to stay slow, match Dean’s pace but he felt desperate and starved. He found himself pressing himself against the other man, his own hands finding their way into his hair, when suddenly he pulled away. Castiel opened his eyes, looking somewhat shocked to find Dean smirking at him.

“You lose,” Dean said, trailing a hand down his side to grip at his hip.

“I…what?”

“You lost. I won. I turned you on, with just a kiss.”

“How…How would you know that?”

“I can tell by looking at your eyes. So do you want to pay your debt now, or later?”

“Now…” Castiel said, swallowing slightly. Damn him, he definitely was feeling the need stirring in his loins. It was almost as though Dean had pulled him into a trap. He supposed it wasn’t exactly a trap, as Dean had fully explained the situation, but it still felt very mischievous.  

 

                Dean suddenly gripped beneath his thighs and hauled him close, before lifting him clean out of the bath and towards the bedroom. He clung to him desperately, but Dean’s wings made a second set of arms behind his back as the other clasped his thighs, keeping him safe from falling. He carried him to the bedroom and dropped him a bit unceremoniously onto the bed, and he winced as his wing caught beneath him. It was no different from falling on your arm and was quickly ignored, though.

 

                Dean soon crawled atop him, returning to the kiss that they’d broken in the bath. This time Dean gladly matched his pace, kissing him feverously as the hand not bracing him ran down his side. He let his claws dip into his skin, just enough to leave very light and almost pleasant scratches down his flesh. His teeth nipped just a little hard on his lips and he tasted the tiniest droplet of copper on his tongue, but he didn’t dislike it. He almost craved the taste and the reason. He felt dismayed as Dean suddenly drew away from his lips, letting out a soft gasp of irritation and impatience.

 

                Though Dean’s mouth had left his own, it did not leave all together as he began to kiss along his jaw. He dragged his teeth along the bone beneath it, causing him to shiver a bit, but not as much as when he got to his neck. He fastened his mouth around it; sucked on it until the skin was wet and flushed where his mouth once was. He suddenly found himself letting out a small groan, and his hips lifted from the bed, seeking comfort, seeking touch. Though he was not visibly aroused he was beginning to greatly desire stimulation.

 

                He kissed down his chest, taking the pierced protrusion in his mouth and sucking lightly. It was pleasant but he still desired to be touch further, and he grinded his hips up against whatever he could touch, only to have Dean suddenly slam his hips down against the bed.  

“I’ll get to you soon,” Dean said against his skin, kissing down his body and holding his hips down as he desperately tried to rut them against him. He kissed the sharp jut of his hips, leaving soft bites down his skin as he reached a hand between his thighs and pulled one of them to the side.  His kisses trailed to his navel, hovering above the slit before he finally gave him the attention he craved and took one long drag of his tongue through the inner walls. Castiel let out a soft gasp, his hips tilting up again as the mere touch almost instantaneously brought out his erection. Dean pulled back with a yell, grumbling “you almost put my eye out,” before going back to what he was doing.

 

                Castiel was about to respond when he felt Dean’s tongue traveling up the base of his cock, and whatever words were there devolved into a low, quiet moan.

“Sounds like you’re really hating this,” Dean said as he stilled himself, letting out a small chuckle.

“Just because I’m vocal doesn’t mean it’s amazing.”

“You’ll change your mind…” Dean said, silencing himself as he sunk his mouth onto his cock. Castiel hissed, his hips jerking and rolling upwards into that hot cavern. He felt the fangs scraping along the sensitive flesh and it sent small lightning bolts through his groin. It was…different. He had never felt something like this before. He himself had never done much with his own cock, much less have someone’s _mouth_ around it.

 

                Dean moved away for a moment, leaving a long, hard lick along the underside of his cock before he trailed down further. He felt Dean’s tongue venture to his clit, sucking and licking at the nerve laden nub of flesh that suddenly made him cry out. It was so wet and warm, and so different. It touched him in ways he’d never been able to touch himself. It was so dexterous… Okay, this was pretty nice. He jerked slightly in surprise as he felt Dean’s hand on his thigh, before it moved to his cunt as he easily slipped his fingers inside the slick opening.   His breath hitched, feeling a slight scraping pain within him from Dean’s claws but he quickly got used to the pain. It wasn’t like he had done it himself many times.

 

                After a few moments of adjustment he felt Dean pushing his fingers upwards, pumping against something that he’d never really ventured into. It was startling at first; almost like the sudden need to use the bathroom, but the longer he continued the better it started to feel.  It still felt like he had to use the bathroom, but instead of protesting the feeling he let it continue. It felt…warm. He felt it deep within him, and he felt it melding with the feeling Dean was giving with his tongue. It still gave him the same pleasure he felt when he’d fingered himself before, but it was so much deeper.

 

                And fuck, it was wonderful. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to ramp up quickly. It felt like only a few minutes and he had one hand on Dean’s hair, the other curling into the fur of the thick blanket on the bed. He found his breath caught in his throat, struggling to breathe as his body was quickly overwhelmed. He could only let out struggling gasps to the point where suddenly he could breathe, gasping out in quickened breaths that he couldn’t control, air fleeing out on pleasured keens and suddenly his breath caught in his throat again and he let out a groan, or rather a scream.  Something exploded in him; out of him. He felt a gush of warmth and everything felt so wet. He felt it through his whole body; an explosion of pleasure that made him tremble like a leaf in the wind.

 

                When he came down his body felt incredibly lax, but he couldn’t catch his breath. Panting, feeling his body sinking into the bed like he was nothing.  He felt the bed shift beneath him and he looked up to find Dean much closer, brushing a bit of hair away that had fallen in front of his face, sticking to his skin with a sweat he hadn’t even realized he’d worked up.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired…exhausted. I admit …That was good. You definitely showed me some things I didn’t know could happen.”

“You cum like a geyser.”

“I didn’t even know I could do that. I thought I just had to pee at first…”

“Women have told me that before. I could teach you some more things,” Dean said, his hand trailing down his face briefly, “But I think you might fall asleep in the middle of it.”

“Yes…I’m tired. But maybe I’ll be up to learning more things after this. What else do you plan to show me?”

“Your pussy and your dick aren’t the only things down there that can make you feel good.”

“Enlightening…” Castiel said, mumbling somewhat as he started to doze off.

“Go to sleep. I’ve got worked to do.”

  “I don’t …want to know what that means,” Castiel said, and moments later he was whisked into the land of dreams. Except, he didn’t really dream. He only awoke when he felt something very cold blowing across his face. He gasped as he awoke and found himself staring at the sky, held in Dean’s arms as he trudged along through the snow.

“What…what’s happening?” he asked, still bleary from sleep.

“We had to leave in a hurry.”

“Why…? How long have I been out?”

“A good while. I left a half hour ago. I, uh…stole something. For you.”

“I thought I told you not to do that…” Castiel said, irritation in his tone but he realized that it was only his face that was cold. There was a bundle of cloth over the rest of his body. Cloth and fur.

“You can’t keep dealing with this cold,” Dean said, suddenly letting him go. Castiel didn’t react nearly as quick as he Dean thought he could have and he ended up crashing to the ground, luckily supported by the bit of snow that was beneath them.

“Sorry…” Dean said, clearly not worried about the fall. Castiel had been through worse and only come out with the loss of one child, so Dean probably knew he could take it. He glared up at him regardless as he sifted through the pile on his form. There was a dark coat sewn with a thick but beautiful cloth, dark blue with silver trim on the edges. It closed with metal clasps on either side and black ties that kept them held together. The second garment was a long cape, lined with black and white fur that buckled in the front with crossing leather strips.

“One would have been enough, but thank you,” Castiel said as he slipped on the coat. He realized now that he had been redressed to the best of Dean’s abilities, but it was tied a bit tightly around the waist.

“The cape will keep you a lot warmer, just put it on. Besides…I…thought they’d look nice on you,” Dean said, the last part mumbled. “You know, because if I have to travel with you…you might as well look pretty.”

 

                Castiel smiled softly, putting the cape on as he thought to himself about what Dean had said. Despite the fact that Dean had already told him how he felt, he still fell back into those old habits of being a dick. But Castiel knew now just how untrue it was, and all things considered, this was hardly the worst thing he’d said.

 

\----

 

                High in the Under City, where a blackened building met the sky and looked out upon the scarred and tarnished land, a meeting was taking place. Elizabeth stood, gazing out the window at the blackened sky with distaste in her heart. John stood beside her, his visage emotionless as he watched the door behind her. It creaked open and cut the uncomfortable silence like a knife as Abaddon entered.

“Your Highness…” she spoke, though the words came strained like they tasted like filth on her tongue.

“Abaddon…I have a job for you,” Elizabeth said as she turned. “I have given Dean long enough to abandon his little pet…Yet still he hasn’t returned. I want you to go find them. Kill that little whore of his, and if he gives you any trouble…Kill him too.”

Abaddon’s blood red lips curled into a smile as she nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's art of the coat and all, but it was done way too early and spoils something really minor from another chapter, so I have to post it then.


	9. The Dragon, The Witch, and the Caravan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art at the end, and some general explanations

The next few weeks were tough, despite the fact that warmth had been a little easier to find. The snow had faded for a while but food was still scarce. They would go hungry for several days at a time, but it was better than to having eaten for a month. Dean gave most of the food they hunted to him, only taking small amounts and yet somehow he was able to function normally. But what were they even doing? Walking endlessly. It was tiring so tiring and he wished that if they were going to travel forever, they could do so in dragon form, but he knew that was dangerous. He assumed that the two of them traveling together would attract some negative attention.  They needed to lay low as possible…

 

                Though the days were hard it was only a matter of time before it got harder. There was never a moment where they felt they were truly safe, and the knowledge that they would encounter more hardships was already ingrained into their mind. They just weren’t sure _what_ it was going to be.  What did happen was not entirely how Castiel pictured it would go.

 

                That night, in the darkness of the forest, Castiel had been tired. Dean was tense, watching and waiting for any danger that might come. He seemed far more on edge, refusing to sleep as Castiel slowly began to dose off on the furred cape that Dean had given him. It did indeed come in handy… He was awoken by a large rush of wind, and a low rumble traveling through the air. At first he thought it was an oncoming storm but he looked up to find Dean standing suddenly. The tension in the air was suddenly much thicker and there was an aura of urgency.

“Cas…run,”

 

                Everything happened so quickly. Above them was a dragon that looked somewhat similar to Dean, clearly a coraxo, though its spines were slicked back and it had bits of red scales that almost seemed to glow,  with dark fleshy scales that seemed thin and stretched over its body. The membranes of its wings were torn,  having seen battle obviously as Dean’s did. This dragon was clearly looking for a fight and Castiel knew why. Before Castiel could protest there was a sudden explosion and he was being splattered with blood before Dean was standing above him in his larger form. He was so massive like this, and Castiel felt so small. He wasted no time in his attack, lunging at the other dragon and tackling it in mid-air, sending both of them crashing to the ground and shattering the trees around them.

 

                Though he wanted to stay, he knew he was no good here and could possibly be crushed or killed like this. He would run, and so he started through the forest on foot. As soon as he was far enough he attempted to shift, but…something was wrong. He couldn’t. Why couldn’t he shift? He attempted to several more times but found he was unable. He would have to keep going on foot… So he ran, blindly, as brambles and branches cut his face and exposed skin. He ran until his lungs burned and his muscles ached. He ran until there was nothing left to run to, and in the worst possible way. In his blind running he had failed to realize that behind a bush of brambles was no ground, only a steep cliff.

 

                It took him only seconds to realize as he was suddenly plummeting to the ground, and he spread his wings but far too late. On either side of him were walls of rock that decreased in width the further down it went, with branches and trees growing from its face. As he spread his wings they caught on the wall and the branch, and the bones snapped with a harsh crack, and he didn’t even have time to scream before he suddenly hit the freezing water below. In the shock of pain and cold blackness took over his vision and nothingness embraced him like a long lost friend.

\---

                Amidst the broken trees and claw-scarred ground were vast puddles of blood, dripped from the battle of great beasts who no longer kept to their massive form, in which two familiar figures battled to the death. Both of them great in their form; evenly matched and almost doomed to fight forever in this makeshift arena of scarred Earth until one of them bled enough to dye the grounds red. Another drop of blood added to the already bloody dirt as sharp, almost metallic claws raked across skin. A sharp gash across his chest, combatted with another quick swipe in return.

 

                Dean was no stranger to fighting, but he’d rather be doing other things right now. He wasn’t sure where Castiel had gone, or if he was alright. He couldn’t abandon this fight just yet, though. He couldn’t leave while _she_ was still alive. Abaddon…He knew if he fled she’d just come after them, and she’d never stop until she was dead. One of Elizabeth’s most trusted knights, or rather, an assassin in this case. She was skilled, incredibly so. One of the top fighters in the Under City. She could give Dean a run for his money any day and he was beginning to feel it, but Dean wasn’t shy to fighting either.  Still, Abaddon was…different. She’d been altered. Been given potions and poisons that made her stronger, allowed her to fight harder, and let her endure more pain. Dean was lacking that aspect.

 

                He dodged an incoming blow only to be stricken by another one, which sent him skidding back as he tried to guard from her blows. Claws raking into the skin of his arms as the sheer force between her attacks made him have to dig his claws into the ground just to avoid being toppled. With a break in her attacks he slung an arm out, catching her across the face and off guard. She was momentarily stunned, and he took the time to rush at her but was suddenly stopped as she roundhouse kicked him,  breaking his balance and sending him to the ground. He didn’t even have time to react before he heard the crack of a whip, and the feel of spikes digging into the closest thing they could reach, the flesh of his forearms. That whip of hers…Sharp, and quick, like her tongue and her wit. It grabbed into the skin, ripping and tearing on already raw flesh but he ignored the pain, gripping higher on the whip to try to drag her closer. But he was too far away, and every place he grabbed felt like serrated blades that made him flinch away. He’d need her to get closer…

 

                She pulled her whip back, pulling him closer, pulling him right into his trap.

“Don’t you regret being a bad boy?” she said, keeping him just out of arms reach so that he still couldn’t grab the whip. Did she know his plan? Or as she just goading him? Getting the last word before she ended him?

“Well, you know me, I was never an angel.”

“Obviously. What were you thinking? Screwing the enemy? It would’ve been easier of you’d just let us kill him.”

“But that’d be no fun for you, would it?”

“You have no idea…In fact, you’re my meal ticket to the top.”

“Am I? What are you going to do? Bring me back, ask for a promotion? Because I’ve got news for you, I ain’t goin’ back and if this is your way of bringing someone home, you’re goin’ about it all wrong.”

“Bring you home?” she laughed. “No. I’m going to kill you,” she yanked the whip again; closer, but not enough. He let out a pained grunt as the skin tore again. “Since you’re going to die…I might as well enjoy myself.” One inch closer, “I _hate_ living under Elizabeth’s rule. I have bigger plans…With you gone, that’s one less person for the throne. And your brother? Well, we all know he’s not fit to rule…so after you die, and all of her other trusted knights meet their accidental, untimely demise…I’ll sit on the throne.”

“You forget about my father,” Dean grunted out.

“He’s not fit to rule…he can’t even speak. With enough talk I can plant the idea in her head that since you’re not her true sons anyway, it won’t matter.”

“But ultimately, Sam is next in line. And what will you if you do get the position? Wait, for another hundred or so years until she dies?”

“No…she’ll die. An ‘accident’. Then I can finally straighten out that cesspool of a city. Elizabeth is weak. We should have taken the Great City centuries ago, and why haven’t we? We all know the barrier is useless.  And your brother, well…if I’m willing to take out the queen, you think I won’t take him out too?”

“Don’t you touch him…” Dean growled, “Or I swear, I’ll peel the skin from your bones while you still breathe.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Abaddon said, yanking the whip hard and finally bringing him close enough. He was finally able to reach closer to the top of the whip, yanking her down to the ground and managing to untangle himself from the whip. Bits of flesh and blood stuck to the serrated edges and the cuts were stinging lie mad, but he was free. He took the whip, throwing it to the ground away from them as he got on top of her to wrap his hands around her neck.

“You’re going to die, here in this forest, and no one is going to miss you.” Dean said, as she gasped beneath him. She suddenly kneed him in the stomach and caused him to back off slightly, choking back a groan. She ran for the whip but he grabbed her, yanking her hair back. She was able to grab the whip, but not before Dean was able to grab it from her. He wrapped it around her throat, cutting into her skin and leaving long streaks of blood down her chest. She was weakening. She wouldn’t be able to fight her way out of this.

“Are you sure you want to waste time with me?” Abaddon said she suddenly grabbed the whip and yanked it away. She stood, staggering. She wasn’t fighting him, but she was keeping her distance.

“If I kill you now, I won’t have to deal with you later.”

“But your little boy toy,” Abaddon said, choking back blood that was flooding into her throat. How was she standing? How was she talking? “Ran in the direction of the cliff. If you catch him now, you might save him…but if you waste time, who knows what will happen? A broken back, a disembowelment, a death… The options are endless.” She coughed, blood splattering onto the ground. “But if you let me go…I’ll come after you. Then I’ll go after your brother. Make your choice.”

                Dean was suddenly left with a difficult choice. But he realized that he’d have to die first before she would kill Sam, and she wouldn’t kill Sam if she was coming after him. If she was coming after them, it could put them in danger, but it could give him a better chance to keep Castiel safe. He stood, walking towards her.

“I’ll let you live, for now. Go ahead, come after me. I’ll be waiting for you,” with a rough shove, he pushed her to the ground as he headed off. He was tired and weakened, so he conserved his energy a bit until he felt he was able to finally shift. It took a lot out of him, and the trees breaking and splintering around him caused him a bit of injury, but he was able to brush it off easily. He trudged through the trees, noting some broken branches ahead of him before he finally arrived at the cliff. Castiel wasn’t here…Had he gone another way?

 

                He returned to his smaller form, kneeling down to examine the Earth. There were footprints, clearly dragon-like and bipedal, up to the cliff…and they seemed to run right off the edge. Fear welled up in his stomach as he looked over the edge, seeing water rushing below. A series of freshly broken branches dangled from gnarled trees, and he almost thought he saw…feathers sticking to the wood. This was no time to panic… True, Castiel wasn’t here, but that could be a good thing. He would follow this stream, see where it took him, and see if he could find him anywhere.

                As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to tonight. He was far too exhausted. Shifting twice, the fight, the lack of food…he couldn’t continue. He would have to hope that Castiel was still alive when he found him. If he had fallen long ago and wasn’t, though, he would have been too late by now anyway.

\---

 

                Castiel awoke to the scent of strong herbs, warmth, and the sound of something…a voice, humming a tune he didn’t recognize but it almost sounded like a lullaby. Was he even awake? Was this a dream? Then again, he couldn’t even remember going to sleep. Where was he? He shifted, trying to turn onto his back before he felt a sharp pain and woke up fully and suddenly with a start, letting out a groan. He glanced up to find a woman, fair skinned with loose auburn curls that cascaded down her shoulders onto a long black dress, covered with a thin, delicate lacework blouse of some sorts. She was slipping off an embroidered black cloak as she came in from a door to the outside.

 

                He glanced around briefly at his surroundings, trying to figure out just where he was. Lying in four-poster bed surrounded by tied back, red drapery. He assumed he was in a house, but the house itself was very small. Everything was clustered together, with a fireplace to his left and an armoire in front of him. There appeared to be a kitchen of sorts directly next to the fireplace, with a dining table pushed against the opposite corner and a strange altar of sorts beneath a shelf of bottles. It was the only thing that was truly out of place. Something was…strange about it. A black bound book was next to it sitting upon a lectern decorated with some kind of golden symbol.  

 

                As she ventured closer, Castiel recoiled. Attempting to sit up he felt the pain shoot through his wings again and he flinched, bending forward and finding he was naked beneath a heavy blanket.

“Don’t try to move too much, dear.” The woman said as she ventured closer. Her accent was…strange, somewhat thick. “You’ve had a nasty fall.”

“Where are my clothes…?”

“They’re wet…I found you down in the river near freezin’ta death. You’re lucky I got you out’a there before the snows came back. They’re dryin’ outside now while we’ve got some sun.”

“Why…did you rescue me?” Castiel said, reaching up to run his hand over his damaged wings, feeling a bandage there covered with some sort of salve.

“I went to fetch some water and saw you washed up on the shore. You just looked so…pathetic. Like a wee drowned starling, feathers all covered in blood and soaked to the bone.”  

“Bleeding…?”

“Aye…Bone went straight through the skin. But they’re set now. Slept through it like a babe.”

“I need to leave…” Castiel said, attempting to pull himself up again but wincing as he shifted his back, the tendons pulling in all the wrong places.

“Those wings of yours aren’t goin’ta heal right if you don’t stop movin’. I didn’t bring you in here for you to mess up all my hard work. So rest up here for a while and wait for them to heal. I know your kind, you don’t take long, and the salve I gave you should make it even quicker.”

                Castiel sighed, easing himself back onto the bed again as he tried to quell the ache in his wings with thoughts of distraction. He didn’t quite understand why this woman had taken him in. Something seemed…strange. He couldn’t fathom that someone would be kind enough to take in something that clearly wasn’t human. Why was she keeping him here? She was right, though. Any movement did seem to cause him pain.

“I could kill you…I won’t, but for all you know, I could have.”

“I’m not afraid of you. I know what you are. You take care of the village below your city.”

“But what’s coming for me isn’t as nice.”

“What’ve you done’ta get yourself into trouble? I thought you lot usually liked to stay out of it.”

“I’m not in trouble, I just…I have this...companion that I’ve been traveling with who threatened to burn down an entire town if they didn’t give us a room for free.” That wasn’t true, he really was in trouble, but he was assuming it would be Dean that came after him and not Abaddon. He really hoped, anyway. “But now that you mention it…yes, I am in a lot of trouble. That’s why I want to get out of here.”

“Then rest. Don’t worry about me, darling. I can take care’a maself.” She looked at him sternly for a moment, irritated with something. “Look what you’ve gone’n done. You’re bleedin’ through your bandages. Now I’ve got’a change them.”

“You really don’t…I could just leave.”

“Is that what you really want? Go on, then. Get up ‘n mosey on out the door. You’ve got far too much worry about other people you don’t even know. I can take care’a maself.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“That’s different. It’s the principal of the thing. I don’t like the thought of some poor creature out there rottin’ta death from ‘is wounds. The difference between you ‘n me is that I’m able to stand. I can fight off whatever comes, you can’t,” she huffed, heading over to a chest near the bed and rummaging through it. “I’ve got’a hand it to you though, you’ll make a good mother. Never let them wee babes out’a your sight. It’ll drive you mad at first, but you’ll get the hang of it soon enough. Know when to worry and when to not.”

Castiel wasn’t sure whether he should fight her on the whole ‘mother’ thing or just admit she was right. “How do people keep finding out about that…” Castiel mumbled.

“I’ve got my ways. Besides, unless you had a big lunch just before you fell int’a that river that wee bit of pudge you’ve got developin’ is a bit of a give away.  You’re skinny everywhere else, which means you’re probably not gettin’ enough food. Take my advice, those babies’ll suck everythin’ out’a there until there’s nothin’ left unless you take better care of yourself. Had that trouble with my son. Bless his heart though, put on enough weight afterwards to make up for all the things he didn’t get.”

“Your son…?”

                She pulled out a roll of bandages and headed over to one of the jugs sitting on her fireplace, opening it up and dipping it in before wringing out what liquid was left on it. It smelled strongly of medicinal herbs, afterwards returning to him and urged him to sit up. He did so, wincing again as the muscles tensed in his back, pulling at the broken bones. She unwrapped the bandages deftly with delicate fingers, and it pulled at the skin where the wounds were.

“Aye…I’m sure you’re wonderin’ where he is…I lost him a while ago. Had to leave town, knew he’d have a better life without me. Got in a bit of trouble…”

“Do you miss him?”

“Wouldn’t any mother?” she said quietly. “Maybe one day I’ll find ‘im again, but right now I’ve just got’a keep my head above water.”

 

                She replaced the bandages and took the soiled ones away, opening her window and throwing them out. He saw that there was quite a lot of blood on them, and perhaps it was best for them to be changed.

“What did you do?”

“Couple’a people disagreed with me. Let’s leave it at that.”

 

                Feeling tired, Castiel eased himself back onto the bed. Was it safe to sleep here? It seemed like it…

“Do you have a name…?”

“Of course…It’s Rowena.”

“Thank you…Rowena,” Castiel said, and with that he dozed off.

 

                His dreams were filled with a light fuzziness. A basic plane of nothingness, interrupted by the feeling of something lightly touching his cheek. He awoke, finding Dean standing above him, looking worried but also relieved, with his coat and cape in his arm. “Hey. Heard you had a fun trip.”

“Don’t know about fun…” Castiel said sitting up, expecting shattering pain but only feeling a dull ache. It seemed his bones were mending. Not completely healed, but they were no longer broken through the skin.

“If you’re going…” Rowena said, opening her armoire, “Which I’m sure you are, please take this. It’ll keep you warm in the winter, cool in the summer. Should go nicely with what you’ve already got.”

 

                She handed him a black tunic with a high collar, but no sleeves. It left ample amount of space near his shoulder blades for his wings, unlike the coat that had to have been cut. It fastened in the front with silver ties and indeed looked like, aesthetically, it would match with that he had, even though he wasn’t exactly concerned with that. He stood, taking it from her and pulling it on. It fit, and it fit well…but perhaps too well.

“Thank you…but I don’t know how long it will fit me,”

“It will stretch. Don’t you worry about that.”

“You’ve been kind…Kinder than anyone I’ve met on this journey so far. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You’ve already done enough, darling.”

“I…have?”

“Simply thankin’ me’s enough,” she said with a smile. But something seemed…slightly off about that statement. He was probably just imagining it, though.

“Take care…” Castiel said, and he opened the front door.

“You too,” she said, as they began to head out. As they stepped out the door, she suddenly seemed to remember something. “Oh, and dear? Thirteen,” she said. Castiel was confused by this, but Dean seemed a bit anxious to go, and so they left.

                What he found outside was not quite what he expected. This was not a house…It opened onto folding stairs, leading down to somewhat overgrown grass, setting upon wheels. This was some sort of caravan, and now it made sense that the house had been so small. As he moved away from the caravan he took a good look out it. Primarily made of wood, though that wasn’t really surprising. It looked far smaller and less impressive on the outside. Though there was something odd about what was behind it.

 

                A …cage of some sort, or so it looked like. He could see metal bars beneath a white tarp that hung over it. Something didn’t seem right about it. No, something didn’t _smell_ right about it. It smelled like something was rotting nearby, almost like it was coming from the cage, but he wasn’t sure. Was it something nearby? Even if it wasn’t coming from the cage, it was still bizarre. The thing was massive, almost if not as large as the caravan itself.

 

                He tried to put it out of his mind as he continued on, and was startled by a loud groaning of sorts. He looked over to see a large dragon looking directly at him. It was, in itself, only slightly smaller than the caravan. Wingless, beaked, bulky and muscular. Castiel would be angry if he didn’t know this was a working dragon. Herbivorous beasts bred like cattle, oxen and horses to serve humans. It was only a little insulting, but they were generally well cared for and this one seemed like it didn’t mind. It turned its massive head away from him with a similar groaning noise, almost like that of cattle, and began nipping at the nearest patch of grass. It had already eaten everything directly beneath it.

 

                Maybe that was the purpose of the cage…so that it could sleep at night there. Why would she cage the beast, though? They were not known to run from their keepers. It also didn’t explain the rotting smell…

“What do you think of her?” Dean asked.

“She seemed…nice, but strange.”

“Something doesn’t seem right…What did she mean by ‘thirteen’?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I honestly hope we don’t run across her again…”

“She was very kind, but at the same time I understand your feelings. Something about that place makes me a little uneasy. What happened with the dragon?”

“Abaddon…She escaped. Or rather, I let her escape. She gave me an ultimatum; save you, or kill her. In hindsight, if I’d killed her you’d still technically be fine. I should have killed her…She told me she’s gunning for queen, and that she’s going to destroy the Great City if she ever gets the chance…and kill everyone who gets in her way, including my brother.”

“What…? Dean, we’ve got to do something.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How am I supposed to not worry? How are you not worried? She’s going to kill your brother.”

“She won’t do anything. Not while I’m still alive, and she knows I’m still alive. If I know Elizabeth, she’ll want proof of my death, or your death. It’s obvious she’s the one who sent her after us. But as long as we stay one step ahead of her, we can be ready for when she comes next and we can take her out. _I_ can take her out. The only reason I didn’t kill her was because of you. I had her, but…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. No harm done, really. I’m not afraid of her. But next time I tell you to run…don’t run _that_ far. Especially not off a cliff. Why didn’t you shift?”

“…I couldn’t. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re pregnant.”

“Would that make a difference?”

“It doesn’t with us, but maybe it does with you. Maybe it’s different because you have _my_ babies inside of you. We don’t shift the same. Maybe your body is trying to stop you from…killing them.” Dean said, the last part coming out a bit strained.

“I still think we should get word to your brother,” Castiel said, looking down at what he now noticed was a small protrusion in his abdomen at the mention of their death. How hadn’t he noticed it before? It’d taken a stranger to point it out to him. Furthermore, why hadn’t Dean noticed? Maybe he did, he just didn’t say anything.

“I don’t have any status there anymore…and nothing can get into our dens but us. I mean they can, but not without being killed…But Sam might still be seeing that girl. Maybe I can get her to relay a message.”

“It’s worth a try. As much as I…despise your kind, I’d really hate it for your brother to end up dead. He was one of the better ones.”

“Thanks, asshole.” Dean said, clearly joking. “Didn’t just spend all day following the river to try to find your broken winged ass. Nice job on that, by the way. How do you fuck up that badly?”

“It was poor timing…” Castiel said, a little annoyed, although he knew now that Dean wasn’t serious.

“I’m going to try to find a place for us to stay for a while…then I’m going to fly back and see if I can talk to that girl. No sense hiding myself anymore. She already knows where I am. Maybe that’ll draw her out of hiding and I can take her out without actually having to warn Sam.”

“Where is it you plan to stay?”

“I don’t know…but I’ll threaten burn another village to the ground if I have to. “

\---

                As the sun began to set once more upon the land, Rowena stood outside her caravan as she watched the two of them leave.  After they were long gone, she turned to head inside, but realized she wasn’t alone. She hadn’t expected anymore visitors after that.

“You…” came a commanding voice. Behind her stood Abaddon, relatively healed from her scuffle other than the remnants of puncture wounds in her neck. “The two dragons you just sent off. Where are they heading?”

“Afraid I don’t know that, darling. All I know is that they went that way,” she said, pointing. “But I’m goin’ta have to ask you not to go after them. I’ve got plans for those two,” she turned to face her, looking her up and down before a small smirk graced her features. With a wave of her wrist, Abaddon suddenly crumpled to the ground, suddenly pinned by an invisible force. “And for you, too.”

 

_**Art** _

 

_**Abaddon:** _

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_**Rowena:** _

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_**The caravan:** _

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_**Cas (not nearly this pregnant)** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a lot of trouble writing Rowena. I've never written accents before, really. I tried to write it normally but it felt really weird and wrong so I went with trying to describe at least some of her accent.   
> However there are differences between the way she says certain words between multiple dialogue lines, which are not due to inconsistencies but rather changes in tone. It probably doesn't make sense to anyone else but me but trust me it's not because I fucked up.   
> Also when I did Cas' outfit I just randomly wanted to do a pic of him preg so I made him in the outfit I wanted to give him, but ended up decided it'd be better for Rowena to give him the second piece of the outfit. And that outfit is really fucked up and can't be rendered twice due to some complicated shit, so I have to stick with just this one pic until they get into summer.


	10. Homecoming

The snows that had thawed the days before were only the calm before the storm. A near blizzard began only days later, buffeting them with heavy snows that nearly left them buried. They were stopped in their tracks before they even had the chance to find another, more permanent shelter. They were left with a difficult decision. Wait out the storm anywhere they could and continue on, or fly back towards the Great City as soon as they could. They ended up going with the latter, spending the night briefly in a rocky alcove and flying back when they had a brief moment of no snow.

 

                Flying on the back of a dragon was a lot different than flying as one. Dean was covered in spikes, and sitting between them was a task in itself. Hanging on was another. He had to grip tightly onto the spikes, bent over with his face burrowed into the back of his neck as he hung on for dear life. The snows were still lightly drifting down on them, and it was hitting him in the face as they flew. He was miserable.

 

                Castiel was almost glad that they had to return together. At the thought of going near his city again he realized that this was probably the one and only time he could question his mother, his siblings, his people… He probably could have gone forever without knowing this but he needed to know the exactly reason why, even though he probably knew.

 

                The snows began to pick up somewhere close to the village, lessening their visibility and forcing them to land. They would walk the rest of the way. Castiel was almost grateful to be walking at this point, no longer pummeled by snow and stabbed by spikes. It was then that he decided to let Dean in on his plan.

“You should know…I plan to return home briefly.”

“Are you out of your mind? Do you want to be killed?”

“My family won’t kill me.”

“I don’t want you going alone.”

“What do you propose I do then?”

“I’ll…go with you somehow.”

“Are _you_ trying to get killed?”

“If you’re sure they won’t kill you, and I have you with me, they’ll stand down.”

“This is a stupid plan.”

“Yeah, well, this whole situation is stupid. We can’t really make it that much worse.”

Castiel groaned and finally accepted. This was _still_ a very stupid plan.

 

                They had to walk another half mile before Dean suddenly shifted and picked him up between his teeth. To his surprise Dean closed his mouth around him and took to the skies. This was probably a less favorable way to travel. It was wet and slippery and he had to hold onto his teeth to avoid slipping down his throat. He heard a cracking, thundering sound from outside and now understood why Dean had put him in his mouth. The barrier was attacking him and Castiel would have been attacked by proxy.

                Suddenly light flooded his vision and he unceremoniously tumbled to the ground. Guards stood before him, uncertain of what to do with their former prince standing there alive and well with the enemy.

“We were told you were dead, sire…Taken by the sickness that you brought home with you,” said one of the guards. He thought his name might be Tomen.

“The only sickness that took me was my mother. Bring her to me.”

“Of course,” he said, rushing off into the city.

 

                Castiel turned to look at Dean for a moment, finding him wounded in various places and bleeding but otherwise unphased. He could feel a tenseness in the air that was thick enough to choke him. Dean was irritated, struggling not to attack one of the guards and the rest of the city most likely. The guard was the same way, struggling not to attack Dean. But he stood silent, his jaw tensed in anger and the effort to stay still.

                Tomen returned with the Queen in tow, who looked shocked and disgusted as he saw the both of them.

“Castiel…I thought-,”

“Don’t lie to me. You can’t expect me to _believe_ you thought me dead.”

“Fine,” she said, easily dropping the act.  “You were unfit to become King anymore…”

“And so you had me killed?”

“How do you think I would look in front of my people to allow such a …harlot, an _abomination_ to remain? It wasn’t entirely my intention to kill you. If you would have died…that would have been an unintended consequence.”

“You always cared more about your image than you did me. This is _your_ fault. Had you listened to me I wouldn’t have been locked away with the _enemy._ This wouldn’t have happened. You’ve lost your future king, you’ve lost your son, and if I could I’d make sure you lost your image, too. You are a fair ruler, but you are an awful parent. How would the people think of you to know that you’re a cold, manipulative liar towards those closest to you?”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that!”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re a stranger to me. I just came to finally know why you did it, so I can cut you off once and for all.”

“How have you fallen so far from grace?” Devana said, her face sullen. “To forsake your people for that… _thing._ That _monster._ ”

                Dean let out a hiss, letting a puff of flame escape his maw just enough to brush against her, to be threatening. She gasped, stepping back and glaring at her son.

“You’ve grown so cold and dark. You’ve abandoned your ways…Are you truly one of them now? Do you have something to do with all of us disappearing too?”

“I’m…not sure what you mean.”

“The disappearance of all the dragons. I know that it’s those beasts in the underground, but it appalls me even more that you would take part in such …senseless slaughters.”

“I haven’t been present in the Under City for some time, and neither as he,” Castiel said as he pointed to the dragon behind them. “We’ve been exiled.”

“Funny…I would think such barbarians wouldn’t mind a whore in their midst’s”

 

                There was suddenly a massive burst of energy from behind him, liquid splattering onto his side and then draining away as he looked back to find Dean no longer a dragon, looking incredibly irritated.

“You’re fucking vile,” Dean said, stepping forward just enough to be intimidating. The guards rose their spears, but Castiel held a hand up that told them to stand down. They looked conflicted, unsure whether to fight of their queen or their exiled prince. “You may think our Queen is terrible, and it is no doubt that she truly is, but in ways you’re worse. You hide behind what you think is right, but you’re just a coward. A coward who would be nothing if it wasn’t for your position of power. You think what you’re doing is right but it’s just so you won’t lose your position. You’d have been better off dead, not Castiel. He’d rule this city better than you in a heartbeat. You disgust me. Not because you’re the enemy; a prissy, pompous little cunt, but because while you hold the air of false superiority your heart is just as black as ours, if not a little worse.”

“You have no right to speak to me that way, you pathetic little peasant. Who are you, anyway? Some underclass citizen writhing in the squalor that is your home? Your kind truly disgusts me. You’re worse than animals.”

“Do you say that just because we don’t live on some fucking cloud? You think you’re better than us? Maybe you should try boosting your fucking security before you run your mouth. Your barrier is shit. You wouldn’t have gotten two steps into our city without being slaughtered. You better get this shit straightened soon, because everyone knows your barrier is useless. It’s only a matter of time before they attack you. Come on, Cas…Let’s get out of here.”

“I could have you both killed…”

“You don’t have the balls,” Dean said, splattering the Earth with gore again momentarily as he shifted. He knelt down, but Castiel turned to face his mother and her guards one last time.

“You should leave…She’ll probably have you killed next. And he’s a prince, by the way, not a peasant,” he said, and Dean swallowed into his mouth once more before he began his descent.

 

                It was only moments before he was on land again, a little wet and sticky but no worse for wear. Dean stood before him, human again though covered in various wounds from the attack from the barrier. It was true what he had said. They really were not phased by the wounds they acquired, the barrier was practically useless.

“I can’t believe we did that…” Castiel mumbled, brushing a string of saliva off of him. “I can’t believe you stuck up for me.”

“They’re dicks…I hate them. I’d stick up for a rock if I could call them on their shit.”

“At least I know not for sure that it was my mother who tried to have me killed. I assumed…but it helps, in a way. To finally be able to forget about her.”

“What about the rest of your family?”

“…Alaina, I will miss. James, I’m not sure. I believe he may have had a hand in Devana realizing what had happened to me. Maybe one day I will be able to see them again somehow. I don’t believe Alaina is as stuck in her ways as my mother. One day she may even seek me out. Don’t kill her.”

“I didn’t kill Devana… I can handle your sister. Come on, we need to find Sam.”

 

                The two of them did not walk the path to the village, but rather through what remained of the forest. It led far back, almost to where scorched Earth became regular, yet dead grass with trees that bore gold and crimson leaves. A small house was nestled into the side of some rocks, and inside of it was where Dean hoped he would find Sam.

 

                Manners forgotten, Dean pushed his way into the house. There was no sign of life at first until Sam came wandering into the living area, naked as the day he was born. Embarrassed, he covered himself although Castiel wasn’t sure what there was to cover as everything was inside anyway. But once he realized who it was he forwent modesty and rushed over to him.

“Dean, where the hell have you been?! You just…disappeared!”

“Did you not see the fight? I’m exiled. But you’re in danger. Abaddon plans to kill you so she can take over position as Queen, and none of us want that.”

“What? I’ve got to warn her-,”

“No. Don’t do that…She’ll figure out I talked to you. Then she’ll figure out I’m still alive, and then you’ll end up as an accomplice and she might just kill you herself.”

“Alright, so I’m supposed to just go home then? Wait for her to kill me?”

“I…shit.”

“What if you came with us?”

“What…? Three people…don’t you think that’ll make us more of a target?”  Dean asked.

“We’re already a target…also, safety in numbers.”

“But that’s more mouths to feed,”

“And more people to hunt.”

“You know, I’m standing right here…” Sam said, “I have a life here, you know.”

                Dean groaned, turning away from them as to think of something. He paced the room for a moment before turning to look at the two of them.

“Cas…sort of has a point, as much as I hate to admit it. Abaddon shouldn’t come after you until I’m dead…but I can’t guarantee she won’t.”

“If I leave, what’s to stop her from swooping in with both of us gone and convincing Elizabeth to name her queen?”

“But Abaddon wouldn’t be good enough for her if she didn’t bring back my, or Cas’ head first. As long as we’re both still alive, she can’t do anything…but with you gone, at least you can be safe.”

“But what about Jess…?”

“She might be better off alone for a while…If she does come for you do you want Jess to be in danger?”

“…No. Where are you two even going?”

“…We don’t know. We’ve been traveling. Trying to stay one step ahead of anyone who wants to kill us.”

“You don’t have a home?”

“Not yet.”

“You could be a couple of stereotypical dragons. Set up in a cave somewhere. Make it really nice with a lot of work.”

“Do you forget how we got in this situation in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was a joke anyway.”

“ _Now_ you start joking at inopportune moments…”

“Alright…Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll leave with you, but as soon as we find a place to stay, I’m coming back for Jess. If we can take Abaddon out, that will be even better.”

“I haven’t seen her lately. I thought she’d come back for me sooner than this. The bitch must be planning something…”

“I’m going to go back briefly…get a few things.”

“Don’t bring more than you can carry.”

“You should invest in a rickshaw…” Sam said, heading back into the bedroom momentarily and returning with clothing.

 

 

                The three of them returned with Sam, sticking far from the entrance of the Under City as Sam ventured home. Castiel took a brief glance to a pile of rubble not too far away. The cave that they’d been trapped in for those many days. It was so unassuming to the naked eye. Just a pile of boulders that had fallen; a cave that had collapsed. Nobody else knew it was a prison. But other than there was something else that made him feel uneasy. Something was very wrong in the air. It felt thick and it made him nervous. The sky was nearly blackened even though it was still day.

“I don’t like it here…” Castiel said, gazing off into the distance.

“Something is…wrong.”

“What?”

“It’s different here. The land, it’s more…warped. The energy is wrong.”

“Do you think it’s because you’ve been away so long?”

“That the placed has gotten worse?”

“No, that it’s different to you.”

“I _know_ it’s different. I wonder if they notice…Shit, what happened to you?”

“What?”

“Your leg, it’s bleeding…pretty bad.”

                Castiel looked down to find a thick trickle of blood running down the inside of his leg. How had he not noticed this? When had this even started? He attempted to examine himself but he found in an upright position it was hard to see.

“Sit down, let me look at it…” Dean said, sounding kind of exasperated.

 

                Castiel lowered himself onto the ground, opening his legs for Dean to try to see wherever this bleeding was coming from. Dean pushed one of his legs up to examine his left leg, running his hand along his thigh and bringing it back wet with a good amount of blood. He watched as it trailed down his thigh, dripping steadily onto the ground and soaking into the parched dirt before it could even create a puddle.

“There’s a deep cut here and a lot of dried blood. You probably cut yourself on the ride here, and it broke open from all the walking. I don’t know how the hell you didn’t notice, though.”

“I’ve had other things to worry about. I didn’t even feel it…”

With a sigh, Dean leaned back on his palms, wincing in disgust as his blood soaked palm touched the dirt and made it stuck to his skin.

“Gross…Take better care of yourself, idiot. And maybe ride Sam next time, he’s got a lot less spikes.”

“I try,” Castiel said, ignoring Dean’s insult.

 

                As the thoughts of his mysterious injury began to fade from his mind, watching the darkened and dead horizon in all its stillness, he felt a sudden change in pressure in the air. It almost felt like an approaching storm until the pressure increased and he was filled with a dread he couldn’t place. Then a sound…a cacophony of noise that confused him at first. Screaming…Something was screaming, only it didn’t come from any place in particular.  It was all around them; it was the air itself. A scream of anguish, pain, anger… It was so loud but in a way that almost didn’t make sense. It was like it was in his head. He looked to Dean to make sure it wasn’t just him hearing this, and he found that he looked just as distressed and confused.

“What the hell is that?” Castiel shouted.

“I…I don’t know.”

 

                The both of them stood, ready to retreat when there was a shifting beneath him. The ground was shifting and there was heat beneath them. There was suddenly smoke rising from the ground, and it drifted until it gathered in one large mass like it was alive. It rushed for the horizon and it was then that the land as they knew it changed. It took the blackness and bleakness with it. It followed it the smoke that left their line of sight and left the skies light like anywhere else.

“That doesn’t look good…” Dean said, as the pressure dissipated and the screaming stopped. Everything was now suddenly very calm; serene, almost.

“You have no idea what that was?”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what the hell that was about.”

“You’re not worried?”

“Damn straight I’m worried…”

 

                Sam suddenly came running across the ground, a sack in hand, looking worried.

“Did you see any of that?” Sam asked, panting.

“Yeah…Did you?”

“I was _in_ it. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe, I thought there was a-a fire or something. What happened out here?” Sam asked, looking up at the sky. “Why is…why is the sky different?”

“That thing…that black smoke, it took the blackness with it.” Dean said, squinting into the distance.

“Is that something we should worry about?”

“Maybe it’s…nothing. Maybe it’ll work itself out.”

“Are we that lucky?”

“Hell no…Let’s get out of here before that thing comes back.”


	11. Darkness Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of rushed at the end, but there's art at the end of it

                Days had blended into weeks, and the snows made finding a permanent shelter ever the more difficult. There was no sign of anywhere to stay but full villages and unaccepting inns. Like shelter, there were no signs of the mysterious smoke that fled the Coraxo territory, and what it meant. Had they all just somehow imagined it? Had there been some eruption beneath the Earth of toxic gasses that had played with their minds? Sometimes he wondered if he had been part of it. Why had this happened when the three of them had returned? Why had he been there to bear witness to it? Was this one of Elizabeth’s secret weapons?

 

                They were beginning to put the strange incident behind them when something strange suddenly occurred. It was almost unnoticed, as they trudged through snow as Sam pulled their newest investment, a sturdy rickshaw, behind him. It was quiet…At first, it didn’t seem odd. The Earth was blanket with snow that muffled the sound of any far off noise. It wasn’t uncommon…But it was _very_ quiet. There were no winter birds, no sound of dragons scuffling in the distance over winter territory as was supposed to be common. There wasn’t even any wind.

“Something’s strange here…” Castiel said, breaking the silence, and even though it was he who was speaking the sudden volume was almost startling. “It’s really quiet.”

“It’s winter,” Dean retorted.

“It’s barely winter…and that’s not what I mean. There’s no wind, there’s no birds or dragons…there’s just nothing.”

“It’s a little weird…maybe today is just a calm day?”

“Something doesn’t feel right…There are signs for a village up ahead. Maybe we can…go to a tavern if nothing else until this starts feeling a little less weird.”

“If they’ll have us. Whatever, let’s go.” Dean said, clearly somewhat irritated.

 

                As they neared the village there was a sudden gust of wind, though there was something unnatural about it. It came out of nowhere where there was nothing but stillness and silence. It seemed to signal a coming storm as dark clouds began to cascade over the skies. There was the sound of thunder in the distance. It was bizarre that rain was coming so late in the year.

 

                As they got closer this storm seemed a bit more off. It was dark…the sky was practically black, and sound seemed to have become absent again. There was the faint whistle of wind and distant thunder but the village itself seemed to have little to no activity. There was no hustle and bustle of the working man. When they got over the short hill it was becoming more apparent that something was wrong. The first sign was a fine, dark mist drifting over the ground. He wanted to turn back, but something drew him closer. He had to know what was happening here.

 

                The closer he got, almost in a trance as he stepped forward into the village, the worse it got. The sky was blackened and trees had withered away into burnt husks like they’d been blasted with fire, yet no buildings showed any sign of fire damage. The worst…were the bodies. He had soon realized there were countless bodies littering the ground. They looked like soulless husks of what they once were, like everything had been sucked out and their mouths gaped open like land-bound fish, their eyes bulging and their capillaries burst in their scleras. They were pale and thin, all of their bones visible as skin that looked like old paper stretched over them.

“We need to go..” Castiel said, backing up in preparation to run the other way. But Dean stopped him, pointing off towards the distance as he spoke his name in hesitation and fear.

 

                Perched upon one of the towers was a mighty, terrifying beast. A black wyvern with glistening black spikes jutting from its back, head, tail, and wings. A set of no less than fourteen blackened eyes twitched wildly in their sockets, surveying the land. But the strangest thing was the blackness that seemed to surround it. Dark, smoky mist seemed to seep from its very being as though it was part of it.

 

                There was movement in the distance near where the building was perched. He watched as all fourteen of its eyes suddenly snapped towards the movement and it opened its mouth and let out a scream. It was unlike anything he had ever heard. It was not a roar. It was a shriek, distorted and terrifying. He could hear voices in that scream. A woman’s voice, although it seemed reversed and melding in with the high pitched shrieking squeal that nearly deafened him. As it shrieked he got a look at its mouth, and that was almost  equally as terrifying. It had so many _teeth_. Two rows jutted jaggedly from the gums at the bottom, but the top was nearly all teeth. Long, curved fangs made up the bulk of it but the roof of its mouth was nothing but jagged teeth.

 

                The smoke from it started to dissipate, or rather it started to move, to attack one last surviving villager. It swirled around him, and he convulsed as his color drained and he gasped, clawing at his neck while the fat left him and he became nothing but a husk. He fell to the ground moments later, like the rest of them, as the blackness moved to swirl around it again. It was time to go…

 

                Castiel tried to turn, to run, but the beasts head suddenly shot up as all of its eyes focused on them. It roared again, but instead of reaching out its shadowy tendrils out to drain their lives it leapt from the roof and began running at them. There was no thought for either of them to even try to transform, as stupid as it sounded, and they just ran. They ran deep into the forest and dodged through trees and thickets. The dragon would not be so easily shaken, though. At first it barreled behind them, shrieking its terrifying wails all the while crashing through trees. He only looked back for a moment to see the creature dissipate into nothing but smoke and the sound of that familiar screaming he’d heard before came back. A wispy, airy sort of scream that seemed to fade into reality from some other plane, waxing and waning in volumes that made no sense.  It chased them with thin tendrils that split apart and raced through the woods behind them and a long side of them.

 

                They thought they were done for as the smoke began to swirl around all of them, finally catching them in its trap. It moved in closer and closer until something suddenly disturbed it. It was a dragon; feral and innocent. It swooped down from the trees and through the wisps of death that threatened them. It was simply minding its own business but the beast had other plans for it. Clearly enraged the smoke followed it and wrapped its tendrils around its middle before reforming into a solid visage. It seemed that the dragon had taken its wrath for the time being, but how long would it be distracted?

 

                The three of them ran again until they came to a cave. They were forced with the decision to enter or to turn back. But what fate was worse? The thought that they may become trapped again, or that monster out there devouring a helpless dragon? It was stupid that the two of them still feared caves. It was what most feral dragons lived in and yet he, with a mind, was afraid of them. But either option would land them in the same predicament if something went wrong; a dried out, starved husk. At least one of them had more of a chance at safety.

 

                They entered the cave, and Castiel realized that Sam had abandoned the rickshaw and inevitably whatever was in it, which was mostly just blankets. He couldn’t care less about that at the moment though. He simply focused his attention on trudging deeper into the cave. The further in they were the less likely that thing would be to chase them…he hoped. He lit the way with the glowing blue light that had given him sight before back in the cave with Dean. It followed them as they traversed a seemingly endless cavern until they came to something unexpected… Built into the cave walls was a house. Its architecture was sharp and defined with spires and arches.

 

                The thought had crossed his mind to investigate but something else caught his eye in the dim light of the blue glow. A small tunnel that led to the chamber they were in and in it was something startling; a dragon, but something was wrong with it seemed. It was gangly and its front and back limbs were almost identical in length. It was muscular but at the same time incredibly thin. Most of its bones were visible through the skin which was stretched tight over the body. It seemed to be watching them though its eyes were white and it appeared blind, set in a head that was elongated and gaunt almost like that of the victims he’d seen just moments earlier. It stepped towards them, its body shifting and its bones moving beneath its skin. But something was bizarre about its movements. Its skin seemed to sag, further and further until he realized it was becoming liquid and dripping down to the cave floor into a silvery puddle. He was beginning to think that he was hallucinating…

 

                The puddle shifted, rose into a shape that became something far less displeasing to the eye. A female stood before them, completely naked except for a silver and gold circlet around her forehead.  She made no attempt to cover her nudity. She could have, with her large silvery wings that stayed folded behind her. Her body was thin and lithe, with small breasts and prominent hipbones. She had long fingers tipped with glistening claws and legs that ended in elongated, clawed feet. Her skin seemed to shine and shimmer with a sort of silver glow that was decorated with intricate designs on her forearms, chest and forehead. Her eyes seemed almost blind. They were white, glowing, with slit pupils behind a cloudy film. They sat beneath a mane of white tangled hair, the bangs of which hang down to frame her thin, angular face while the rest was tied into a loop behind her.  Above that were silver horns that shined brightly in the light he’d produced, not unlike her wings, or her tail that swayed behind her curiously. The girl seemed like a living embodiment of silver and chrome…

 

                She walked towards them with her hips swaying lightly with each step. Her eyes were unfocused; it seemed she was indeed blind, or mostly so, but she knew they were there. She finally parted her shimmery lips and spoke in a tone and manner that was somewhat strange.

“Visitors…would you like…shelter from the storm?” her voice was monotone but airy and light. She paused oddly between words and sentences where she shouldn’t.

“The storm…?” Sam asked.

“The beast…that tears apart the land…like that of a raging hurricane…now as we speak. Spreading its darkness.”

“How do you know about that?” Castiel asked.

“I can feel it…Please, come inside…Rest. Take shelter.”

 

                They were soon led within the strange manor built into the stone of the cave. The inside was dark and dim. They could see little but what the light showed them. It was dusty and cold but at least it was shelter. She waved them towards a small seating arrangement near the entrance where the three of them sat, and where they would continue to sit as she would eventually weave them a tale that would leave neither of them any closer to finding out what or who this woman was.  She sat down across from them on a small chair and didn’t speak. She simply stared at nothing and kept silent. It was incredibly awkward and Castiel felt himself shifting uncomfortably, feeling very small under her stare. It was Sam that finally broke the silence and he was very thankful for that.

 

“So, I need to ask you…what are you?”

“I do not know.”

“You don’t know…? Do you not have parents?”

“I do not remember. ..I have lost…much of my past. I remember some things…my parents, I suppose. They were not like me. I have a vague memory…of what we once were. I remember hunger. But I do not know hunger anymore. A woman…fire on her head. She came to us. My parents…gone. She touched me…but then she was gone. Now I know no hunger, no pain…I simply exist.”

“Were you always blind?”

“I am not blind…not entirely. I have not left this cave in so long…this is my home. Why would I leave? But it is dark…it is always dark, and I do not need to see. I can still see some…but not much.”

 

                Castiel was intrigued but confused by this story. A woman with fire on her head…Was it some kind of hell beast? Why had she spared this woman? But that didn’t matter now. There were far more pressing issues. A beast that tore apart the land… Had something far more deadly than the Coraxo been released from beneath their city?

“How were you able to sense the dragon outside?” Sam asked. He seemed very interested in this woman and her abilities. It was almost like he was interviewing her.

“I sense everything that is close by…Feel the feelings…of every living thing that passes by here. The dragon that was eaten…it felt fear and anguish. She feels anger, pain, betrayal….She is so angry. She is so afraid and hurt.”

“She?”  Dean finally asked, having been fairly quiet this whole time. “That…abomination out there is a she?”

“Yes…And she has no idea what she sees. She is very confused. One of you feels fear and uncertainty. You worry for someone…A lover that you left behind. One of you feels anxiety…a deep longing to protect. One of you is tired. Very tired… Anxious.  Longing for something you have not found Longing for something you have not found.” She stopped for a moment, her brow furrowing in confusion. “I see three of you…I feel… sixteen of you. No, ten. There are sixteen…but they are not long for this world. Thirteen of you…they do not feel much of anything. Six of those thirteen are dying…Not so much dying…they are being absorbed. Eaten. Seven will remain.”

                Castiel felt his heart drop into his stomach as nausea welled up in his throat. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Dean had told him not all of them made it. It was shocking at first to learn that there were… _had_ been thirteen, but then that six of them were dying was fairly upsetting. But the number thirteen sounded familiar…Where had he heard that before? Why was it significant? He searched through his memories and finally came to the one that was significant. He remembered Rowena saying the number to him as he left. Had she known? Had six of them still lived a mere few weeks ago?

“Do not despair…” the woman said. “It is the way of life.”

               

                He felt a sudden touch on his thigh; Dean’s hand on the side of his leg. He assumed it had to do with comfort.

“I can offer you shelter for the night…but I ask that you leave in the morning. I do not want that creature…invading my home.”

\---

                Sam split off from the both of them as they left to venture upstairs into the bedrooms. They were like the rest of the manor; decrepit and dusty, but they managed to brush the dust off of the covers at least and remained lit by the light of the blue glow. Sam, however, was on his own but didn’t seem to mind. Castiel eased himself onto the bed to be joined by Dean moments later.

“Don’t beat yourself up about this…”

“It’s hard not to,” he said quietly. “They’re…eating each other in there. I feel like I’ve done something…wrong.”

“Look…thirteen is way too many. There’d be no room for them. But that isn’t your fault.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all that we’re slowly losing them?”

“No, because it happens. Over the years we’ve had people who can tell how many children someone’s carrying, and it’s not uncommon for them to steadily decline until there’s only a few left. And usually it’s not _thirteen._ Come to think of it, fourteen. Fourteen is an outrageous number. I could tell you had more than one but not _that_ many.”

“We lay eggs, usually. The males do. Not a lot of them make it so there’s a _lot_ of them.”

“So it’s the same thing then, basically.”

“I suppose, but at the same time you don’t really know until they hatch months later. I’d rather be willfully ignorant to the fact that they’re eating each.”

                He fell back onto the bed and settled into it with silence, staring up at the bluish ceiling that was covered in cobwebs. Though the place was obviously a bit dusty it was far better than he’d had and he was grateful to be laying on a bed and not solid ground but his mind was still elsewhere.

“What if I’ve been pushing myself too hard? What if they’re dying because of that?”

“Our situation is less than ideal…but I don’t think that has much to do with it.” Dean said, laying down next to him moments later. “Did you really want thirteen kids?”

“…No.”

“Then think of this as a blessing.”

\---

 

                Castiel wasn’t even sure when he’d fallen asleep but he was suddenly waking up finding Dean missing. He felt a jolt of fear run through his belly, thinking for some reason that something had happened to them. He found it was not the case as he rushed downstairs to find Dean merely talking to Sam and the woman in the sitting area.

“Hey, we need to get out of here. She says it’s going to start snowing again soon and she doesn’t want us snowed in.” Sam said somewhat nonchalantly, although Dean seemed annoyed by the prospect. He looked like he wanted to say something but Sam was giving him a very stern look.

“I wish you luck in your travels…Take care.”

 

 

                The trek back through the cave was longer than they remembered. Dean had voiced his annoyance along the way by saying he was irritated she’d thrown them out so quickly but Castiel could see her point of it. She had already voiced that she didn’t want that creature tracking them down and appearing on her doorstep. Regardless the entire walk was quiet and somewhat tense.

 

                The first specks of snow were beginning to fall as they made their way from the cave. Almost immediately he felt uneasy as they entered the forest. It was very quiet again, like it had been when he’d encountered that dragon the first time. He hoped sincerely that it was just because it was early and the forest was still quiet but the air was very still and almost stagnant.

 

                His fears were realized as a black mist began to creep along the ground. They had little time before it came rushing for them. They turned to face the cave in an attempt to run back towards in but found the mist quickly creep beneath them and cover the entrance. They dared not try to go through it.

The mist formed into something almost human. It was a human shape but remained black and wispy, transparent and making anything behind it visible. From the smoke a voice drifted forth, distorted but feminine.

“Why do you run from me?” she said. “Do you fear me?”

“You murder everything you come across, I think the feeling’s justified.” Dean said.

“You have nothing to fear from me...You were the ones who released me.”

 

_**Art:** _

 

_**The wyvern:** _

_**Close up:** _

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_**The castle in the cave:** _

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_**The dragon** _

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	12. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes and art at the end

                Those words echoed in his mind as they drifted forth from that shadowy abomination before him. That he had freed her, or they had freed her…? He wasn’t quite sure on the specifics. He didn’t even have time to question her before suddenly he was somewhere else. A blackness that held nothing but he, Dean, and the shadow that seemed to blend with the background. Sam was nowhere to be found.

“What the hell did you do? Where’s my brother?” Dean asked aggressively.

“I’ve done no harm to him,” the voice said as the mist around the shadow began to dissipate. He watched as it changed into something far more human, with skin and an actual body. “But he does not need to be here for this.”

 

                When the mist faded a woman stood before them. She was dressed in something he was almost certain he’d seen his sister wear but he was unsure. It was black and flowing, covering at the most, her breasts and was completed with a lower undergarment that was fastened with golden dragon ornaments. Her arms were dressed with black and gold gauntlets, with some sort of almost pearlescent material near the top.  A bird skull was fastened to her neck along with other shimmering gems and blackened strings.

 

                The ensemble seemed to fit her well, lying over a tanned, somewhat curvy form with defined muscle in certain places. It matched with the dark, brunette hair that cascaded down her shoulder like chocolate waterfalls that diverged around shimmering black horns. It offset the coppery sheen of her claw tipped fingers yet somehow matched well. It seemed almost an expansion of the blackened, leathery wings and the shifting black tail behind her. But one thing it didn’t seem to match was her eyes.

 

                Castiel was not one to wax poetic on someone’s looks but her eyes were haunting. Set above thick lips and sharp cheekbones, they were like deep pools of emotion. He’d heard the phrase used in poetry before and it always seemed incredibly stupid and usually unwarranted, but truly when he looked into her eyes he felt like he might drown. There was something so incredibly haunting about them. Her sclera were clouded with greenish black, but her irises shimmered like jewels. They were golden, but at the same time green with flecks of black with pupils that almost seemed non-existent until the light shifted, revealing them as darkened gold that nearly blended in with the irises. They were fascinating but at the same time terrifying.  

 

“What are you…?” Castiel asked, still transfixed by her gaze.

“I am the first of your kind. Of you and everything like you.”

“Mhm…and, first of our kind, do you have a name?” Dean asked.

 “I forget names are so important for you insignificant creatures…  You can call me Amara, if you’d like.”

“For being so grateful you certainly think lowly of us,” Castiel mumbled.

“Gratefulness can only go far. I still find your kind pathetic and small but nevertheless enjoy being free.”

“What is it that we’ve done to free you?”

“Perhaps it’s better that I showed you,” she said, gripping the both of their wrists. Suddenly, his vision went white. He no longer saw her but a vision of something as though he was dreaming. Two wyverns sat upon a high tower, bathed in the light of dying sun. Castiel felt that there was something special about them.

One of them was silver, glistening brightly and alarmingly radiant. Shimmering metallic spikes and scales ran down its back, checkered with dark black, similar to the horns that adorned its head. White feathers and fur ran along the scales, almost bird like along its leathery wyvern wings, while white fur ran down its back and tail, similar to the white beard peppering its jaw and hanging low beneath its chin.  The whole creature seemed to be mostly monochrome except for the bright blue glowing eyes.

 

The second was almost the complete opposite. It was completely midnight black and blue other than the glowing yellow eyes. Its fur was much thicker and rougher, almost like the jutting spikes rising from its head, back, and tail. The fur ran along its wings, chest, head, back and tail not unlike the radiant beast beside it. It wasn’t just the coloring that separated them, but their size. The black one was smaller and thinner with a more limber form while the other was large and powerful, though somewhat lithe.

 

                Two names entered his head, and without being told, he knew which they belonged to. Amara was the black one and the silvery one was named Aladriel, and he seemed discontent while Amara seemed irritated.

“Why do you care so much for those pathetic things? We are so much more powerful.”

“Because there must be balance, Amara.”

“Balance of what? We could rule them; destroy them.”

“We must not upset the other Gods.”

“Why do you fear them?”

“Fear is not the same as respect.”

 

                The scene shifted to find Aladriel and Amara together again, although Amara was far more irritated and Aladriel almost seemed happy. Beneath him was a much smaller dragon that was not unlike the Vovina. In fact, he was almost sure it was the same.

“I don’t understand why you need these things,”  Amara said, gesticulating one of her clawed hands towards the beast. It shied away, startled by her massive size.

“Do you not feel lonely in this world?”

“There are humans, there are animals. There is you and me.”

“But nothing like us. I am lonely, Amara. I wish to have children, like the human God has created.”

“I thought I was enough for you…” there was hurt in her words.

 

                Again the scene shifted and he found Amara was again angry, yet something had changed. She was beginning to change. A black cloud began to emanate from her very being as it did now. She stalked between buildings to find Aladriel perched atop the construction of a great building; his home. Many Vovina surrounded him, but there was yet another species. It was one of the bestial races. Apparently, it was not the first.

“Stop this!” Amara demanded. “You are obsessed with your little creations. You have abandoned me, brother!”

“It is not me who has abandoned you, Amara,” he said coldly. “You simply distance yourself because you are jealous.”

“You should have fulfilled your loneliness by now. You have created so many children. It consumes you. It has nothing to do with jealousy; you have all but forgotten me for your _toys_.”

“You should leave…if you can’t accept what I’ve set out to do, we have no reason to speak.”

 

                The third shift was far more dramatic. There was a city in ruins with the bodies of dead dragons and humans at Amara’s feet, but she had been utterly corrupted. She was as she was now, with her multiple eyes and general look of being an abomination. Aladriel swooped down from the sky and landed before her, and though he was reptilian it was clear in is expression that he was angry. His teeth bared, snarling at her.

“This is unacceptable!”

“Do I finally have your attention, brother?” she asked, but her voice was distorted as it was now.

“You’re acting like a child! Although even a child would know not to cause such needless destruction!”

“I’m sorry, have I broken your toys? Are you going to cry now?” Amara chided, as she stepped towards him and kicked corpses away from her.

“You’ve gone too far,” he growled. “I can’t let you keep doing this. I can’t risk you doing this again…Look what you’ve done!” he said, gesturing towards the corpses. He noticed now that they were similar to those she’d drained in the village. “Needless slaughter, Amara. You do not need to hunt; to eat, to cause these creatures harm!”

“I wanted you to remember my existence, but then I realized…it was liberating. To destroy what you’ve created. To destroy what you told me I couldn’t out of _fear_ that the other Gods would be angered. You’re pathetic.”

“I’m sorry…” Aladriel said.

“It’s too late for apologies.”

“Not for what I’ve done, but for what I must do.” He said, and there was a sudden shift in the earth. Chains rose from the ground, binding her neck, wrists and ankles. More rose with hooks that bit into her flesh. She screamed, not in pain but in rage. “You would do this to your own sister?!”

“I cannot risk more of your destruction!”

With that, she was pulled beneath the ground as though it didn’t exist. There she sat, constrained in a dark stone chamber until she could no longer hold her dragon form. She became more human, and she stayed damaged and chained, naked on the cold floor. Then it shifted from her completely.

 

                He wasn’t entirely sure how she was showing him something she wasn’t there to witness, but none of this made since. Aladriel stood with ten dragons at his front.

“I must ask you a favor that I truly regret. My sister…she is gone now, residing beneath the Earth, but I do not trust that she will truly be contained. I ask that the ten of you guard the area. Build an outpost if you must. My children, it is with a heavy heart that I ask you this.”

“It is no trouble, father,” one of the Vovina said.

               

                He watched as the scene changed again, as the ten Vovina entered an area that was still littered with bodies. They held a vigil for them, buried them far from where Amara was taken from and said a prayer that they would move on. They used their gifts to construct an outpost in the side of a mountain and made their life there. But things began to change… Slowly they began to corrupt, just as the land itself did. When everything died so too had their own humanity. They had turned into something evil; Coraxo, and they were _her_ children and they _hated_ the Vovina for what their father had done to their mother.

                They gave into baser desires, and having lost their hermaphroditic status, bred with the few females there were relentlessly. There their society began. It shouldn’t surprise him that all Coraxo were basically related but now he knew for sure. Their society grew as did their city, burrowing into the Earth. Over time, the original ten died and the story of the dragon beneath them died with them. They forgot about Amara, and the Vovina forgot about Aladriel. But that corruption still held fast with them and their hatred did not waver. But why exactly did _Vovina_ hate Coraxo? Was it that their corruption tainted those who came close?

 

                But Amara did not forget. She did not forget about her corrupted children and what Aladriel did to her. The desire to be free from this dark prison never wavered. A thousand years had passed and every day she desired escape, but she was weak. The chains that held her weakened her. In a way she was almost starving, but the blood that trickled down into the Earth gave her sustenance despite the fact that she never truly needed food. There were countless battles and deaths atop her as Vovina and Coraxo fought. The arenas helped, as Coraxo battled and died there and killed the occasional Vovina. The battles that took place between the two of species on her land would always seep beneath the ground, pooling in her prison as it was called to her and absorbing deep into her body. But it did nothing… It did not strengthen her enough to escape.

 

                But then something happened…new blood. A blood that was both. A blood that was corrupted but at the same time still retained its original state…It was _his_ blood. She drank it down and it strengthen her. The offspring of both her and her brother’s children, blended and new. She desire it desperately and when it dripped down to her she would regain more strength. She was almost strong enough to escape…but then the bleeding stopped. She was barely on the cusp, just waiting for one more drop but she began to think it would never return. Finally, one day, it did. Just a few drops that she called to her but it was enough.

 

                She tore the chains from her body and ripped away the cuffs. She was free…They couldn’t hold her anymore. Her body changed to smoke and she fled through the cracks, her rage still fresh in her mind as she fled and took all that she’d corrupted with her…except the Coraxo. There was no fixing them anymore. There was barely a speck of their true nature left and it had been so muted down by years of breeding that they were truly now their own species.

 

                She fled, and she destroyed all she could. But where was her brother? Truly, it was _him_ she desired to destroy, yet he was nowhere to be found…Had something else already taken him? Where had he gone? She would find him, if she had to destroy the entire world to do it.

 

                Whiteness returned to his vision again and he found her standing there before them again. Castiel felt stunned and silenced, and Dean was no different. It was then that he realized she had some kind of power over him.

“I have the both of you to thank…If you had not shamelessly mated you would not have freed me. Though perhaps it’s who trapped you in that cave who I should thank…She keeps herself well hidden. Even I cannot truly learn who she is.”

“So someone did trap us there?” Castiel asked, not sure why he was speaking to her as though she were harmless. In reality, she could kill him if she wanted to in an instant.

“Of course. But you already knew that. All I know is that she is female.”

“What are your intentions now?” Castiel asked. He knew they couldn’t be anything good.

“I will kill those who stand in my way, and I _will_ find my brother. If I have to slaughter more creatures to gain his attention, so be it. It’s a great thrill…and their essence, it nourishes me so. I may not need sustenance, but being trapped has left me…empty.”

“We can’t let you do that,” Dean said suddenly. It surprised him that Dean of all people cared about senseless death. “You can’t just…destroy the world looking for your brother, whatever he is. We’re already running out of dragons as it is.”

“And you can thank _her_ for that.” She smiled and then did something expected. She kissed him, and then she kissed Dean. With that kiss he felt an undeniable urge. A longing for her…Why? Both of them were left looking unfulfilled and dumbstruck as she turned to leave, “If I destroy the world searching for him, do not fear…the both of you will always be mine. No harm will fall to you from me.”

 

                Then she was gone, completely. The smoke around them dissipated and there they were standing before Sam once again who was not only bewildered but worried.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “What the hell happened..?”

“I think…I think we fucked up,” Dean said, and there was true fear and regret in his voice.

 

_**Art:** _

_**Aladriel:** _

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_**Amara:** _

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_**Amara (human. Loook I had to make her in a week she's not perfect okay please forgive me):** _

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_**Eye detail:** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to change the 'canon' a bit. Chuck isn't included because...honestly, he would fit very poorly in this situation. God isn't entirely God, but rather Aladriel...i.e, a dragon God.   
> Amara isn't included in the tags or anything because honestly, this wasn't planned, but I decided to take it in this direction after rewatching S11.   
> Also, I'd like to say because I haven't before, I truly appreciate the comments I am given on this fic. I do not reply because most of the time I don't know what to say and am too shy to reply. But know that they are read, and heard and appreciated.


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